The Keys to Your Healing Heart
by MyFirstistheFourth
Summary: *Sequel to Shelter Your Wounded Heart* A year has passed, John and Mycroft's unique relationship continues and both have grown ever closer. As they prepare to make a big change in their lives, Sherlock's return will shake the relationship to the core. Who will win John's heart now, or is there another way? Rated Mature for M/M slash and Dom/sub themes.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **For those who enjoyed my first foray into Johncroft, a sequel was requested. I really wasn't sure I ever intended to write one BUT then **Spades **(FF) sent me the most wonderful review full of excitement over the story. She then proceeded to (I Swear!) Breed the Evil little plot bunnies and virtually Hurled them at me via PMs! Whereupon my brain simply Ran away with them and Now, Here is the start of our sequel! My most Gracious Thanks to **Spades** for all the encouragement, reading, suggestions, and excitement that have kept me writing this tale! She's a Right fair writer herself so you should give her a read sometime as well! :-D For those fans of the odd pairings, I hope you enjoy!

{*} {*} {*}

John wrapped the black silk robe more snugly around him as he gazed out of the manor's Gothic style windows to the grounds below. It looked to be the start of a beautiful day as the sun drove the morning fog from the perfectly manicured gardens. John wasn't even aware of the smile on his face as he lost himself in thoughts and memories. It had been a wonderful weekend here at the country house, a rare chance to get away from the demands of the city and just be alone with Mycroft. He often felt he needed to pinch himself, as though this idyllic life he had now would turn out to all be a dream. Hard to believe he had been prepared to die only a year ago, before Mycroft saved him and literally changed his life. He was happier now than he had ever hoped to be. Yes, London was calling them back soon enough, back to the townhouse, the flat. and work but John was determined to enjoy the last remnants of this weekend, including being royally fucked in the shower by Mycroft. As he shifted his weight from one foot to the other the subtle shift of the thick plug in his well-fucked ass kept John in a constant state of subdued arousal as he recalled their earlier activities. He would never have dreamed the changes his relationship with Mycroft would bring about but remained grateful. What started as a physical relationship and one-sided love affair, had truly grown into mutually returned love and affection. John found himself in a reflective mood on this anniversary, recalling the journey he and Mycroft had taken together and what he wished to do about it now.

Long arms snaking around his waist broke the reverie of his mind as a soft, warm kiss landed behind his ear. John happily leaned against the warm chest behind him and shuddered as Mycroft's silky voice caressed his ear.

"What has you so distracted this morning? You didn't even hear me come in and get dressed."

John turned in the circle of arms and brought his own up to wrap around Mycroft's neck, smiling as he teased his lover. "I was just thinking of this great weekend I once had and the most amazing sex ever," he sighed dramatically, "Just the best ever…..I really, Really should look that guy up again."

Mycroft smirked, well used to John's cheek by now, "Mmm...yes. Anyone I should know?"

John gave up the tease with a chuckle, "I certainly hope so." Tugging gently and raising up himself up he claimed Mycroft's lips for a kiss. He truly intended it just as a quick kiss but funny things happened when they came together. John still couldn't believe his luck or the amazing chemistry he and Mycroft shared. So he couldn't say he was surprised when Mycroft took control of the kiss and deepened it.

Mycroft simply couldn't resist John, naked except for black silk, and wrapped in his arms kissing him. With his left hand in John's hair, he tasted the willing mouth deeply. Drinking John in like a thirsty man in the desert seeking water, even though he had just had him most thoroughly half an hour ago. A whole year and he was convinced he would never get enough of John. His right hand roamed possessively over the strong back coming at last to grope the magnificent silk covered ass. John was already moaning softly into the kiss, his renewed erection pressing into Mycroft's thigh. When his fingertips brushed the edge of the plug he had put in John after their round in the shower, he couldn't resist. Cupping his hand fully over the base and pressing the plug deeper over and over in a pulsing motion, drawing John tightly into his body as he did so.

John ripped himself away from the kiss moaning loudly at the stimulation and grinding his erection into Mycroft. "Oh God My! Ohhh….yes...more, Please more!"

Even now John remained immediately responsive to Mycroft's touch. He continued the slight push and pull to John's ass as his lips and tongue traced over the throbbing pulse in the throat before him, delighting in the trembling body he held. Lowering his voice in a way he knew drove John wild he murmured urgently against his ear, the hot panting respirations of John's arousal puffing against his cheek as he spoke. "Do you know how much pleasure it gives me to think of you walking around all day like this? Going about your work, your patients unaware that the unassuming doctor has a plug up his ass keeping him filled with his lover's cum. Being able to show up and fuck you whenever I want, wherever I want because you are always ready for me. It is the most sinfully decadent pleasure of my day John." John could only whimper in response, still grinding his hips urgently. Mycroft knew he was close but couldn't have him come this way as he was already dressed in his suit. Deciding on an alternative course of action he quickly spun John around against the window. "Hands on the frame John, spread your legs a little," he commanded and John immediately complied. Pressing himself along John's right side, he used his left hand to continue pulsing the plug against the prostate while he used his right hand and the end of the silk robe to grip the leaking cock and begin stroking steadily.

John groaned loudly, the sensation of the soft cool silk and Mycroft's firm grip slipping over his hot hard erection, coupled with the plug pressing against his prostate, brought him rapidly to the edge. Even when not actively playing Mycroft's training still held him back, panting and aching to come.

Ever attentive, Mycroft was quick to sense the need, "Don't John. Don't hold back. I want to see you. Let it go John…..come for me."

John sighed and came with a cry, arms shaking against the window frame and legs trembling, but as always Mycroft was there and held him through it. It was an unexpectedly amazing orgasm. As soon as John's ragged breathing slowed, he exclaimed in wonder, "God My what you do to me," before pulling Mycroft into another scorching kiss.

When they parted Mycroft smiled, "I can assure you the feeling is quite mutual John. Now perhaps you can assist me as well love. I should like to make it to the office without a certain impediment."

Taking in the impressive erection tenting the expensive trousers and his soiled robe rapidly congealing into a cold clammy mess, John quickly assessed his options. Locking his eyes with Mycroft's, his hands reached for the belt securing his robe. Slowly he untied the robe and parted it over his chest, letting it fall to the floor in an inky puddle behind him John fell to his knees without another word. Mycroft didn't bother to hide his appreciation as his cock twitched in response at the sight. Making short work of the trousers fastenings, John soon had the swollen cock in his hand stroking lightly. Smiling he finally replied, "It will be my pleasure," before taking the cock in his mouth and beginning to suck. He knew just how to bring him off quickly; teasing his tongue against the frenulum and swirling it around the head, taking him deep, humming low in his throat and swallowing around the length, but he knew what would give Mycroft the fastest release. Pulling off with a wet pop he looked up, "Use me My. Fuck my mouth and throat…...fuck me hard and let me taste you."

Mycroft didn't need to be told twice, the sight of John naked at his feet swallowing his cock was one of his favorite thrills and had him on edge almost from the start. Taking a firm hold on either side of John's head he rubbed the tip of his leaking cock along those red, swollen lips until they parted for him, then he thrust deep into the moist heat and held it there. He loved seeing his cock buried deep in John's throat and he reached around to stroke against the distended area. Cupping John's jaw with one hand he began to fuck in and out with quick, sharp, deep thrusts. John had improved even more this year and took him deep in his throat without distress, the flaring of his nostrils as he breathed through his nose still an absolute turn on for Mycroft. He watched his large cock disappearing over and over into John's wet suckling mouth and found his release rapidly. With a loud groan and a grunt he poured his cum down John's throat in long, shuddering pulses. John pulled off, gently sucking him clean before tucking him back into his pants and fastening his trousers. Mycroft offered his hand to help John off of the floor and couldn't resist a quick kiss to taste himself on the others tongue. Sadly, duty was calling so he forced himself to pull away. Retrieving his jacket from the foot of the bed he addressed plans for the day.

"Will you be riding in with me? I have an early meeting with the French ambassador to get to."

John casually leaned against the window completely unabashed in his nudity, "No not today I'm afraid. I don't have any early appointments so I was planning to have breakfast here before heading back to town. I have some things to tend to before tonight but I'll be in to the Diogenes later. Maybe we can have lunch or tea if that works better with your schedule. But you definitely have tonight free right?" He had asked Mycroft especially to arrange to be free tonight. He wasn't even sure if Mycroft realized what day it was but he had made special plans for them at 221B, returning them to where it all began.

"Certainly John. I have cleared my schedule this evening and early tomorrow even. My engagements today will rule out lunch I'm afraid, but tea should be a possibility.

John smiled his broadest, happiest smile, "Then I shall look forward to it." With a quick kiss and a swat to his rear, John urged Mycroft out the door. "Now get going before that bed becomes far too tempting again! I will see you later."

Mycroft chuckled as he returned the kiss, "Indeed, my dear. Indeed!" He gathered his things and left quickly because the temptation was a very real possibility. Leaving John to dress, eat, and contemplate the day.

{*} {*} {*}

John dressed quickly after Mycroft left because he actually did have things to see about. Tonight had to be perfect. He packed up what he needed to take back to town with him and, with a last wistful look around the room, carried his bag downstairs to see about breakfast. The staff would normally prepare something but John had actually asked Mycroft to give them the weekend off so they could be truly alone. Besides, he enjoyed cooking for Mycroft. Since the staff wouldn't be back until later this morning, John whipped up a quick omelette, toast, fresh fruit and tea for himself and sat at the kitchen counter to eat. The dining room was just too large for him alone. As he ate he found his mind recalling the past year again, it was not a smooth road from then to now but well worth the journey.

Mycroft had learned early on that John would need more care and attention than he had even anticipated to be able to recover from the trauma of Sherlock's death. He worked from home for the first week to help John acclimate to the house and routines as well as set up his outpatient counseling. John was still emotionally fragile and often needed Mycroft's dominance to reassure him and ground him. Being able to submit completely to Mycroft freed him from the constant torment of his mind, he could simply stop thinking at all and just be in that space knowing that he would be safe and protected. His trust in Mycroft had become complete very quickly and he looked to him for guidance anytime he felt unsure. The frequent sex and orgasms exhausted him enough to allow him to sleep well for the first time in months, his color improving and the dark circles under his eyes disappearing.

It was five days before Mycroft found out about the dreams, summoned from his study by the screaming from a supposedly napping John. He was confronted with John thrashing around the bed, sweating, crying, and screaming, "Sherlock, NO!" and "STOP! JUST STOP!" along with the softer, "Please don't leave me behind!" and the nearly whispered, "I love you." Mycroft knew John still loved Sherlock, that he still suffered and grieved, he simply had not been faced with the depth of it before. No wonder John had wanted to escape so badly he had nearly killed himself. Mycroft knew when he started this that John didn't love him, but he loved John enough to do this because he needed him to survive. Without another thought he crawled into bed with John. Wrapping his arms around him and putting one leg over his, he spooned him snugly against his body to stop the thrashing and began to speak calmly and softly into John's ear. "Shh..it's okay John. I'm here, I'll take care of you. You'll be okay now. Shh….calm down." He had unconsciously started to rock back and forth holding John trying to soothe him. John never woke up fully but gradually calmed, easing out of the nightmare. When John did wake up he was surprised to find Mycroft dozing next to him but remembered nothing about the nightmare.

Mycroft alerted John's therapist and arranged to work from home another week.

It wasn't until he returned to the office the third week that he found out about the eating problem. John had given no indication of any such problem while Mycroft was home, and he had breakfast with him every morning before he went to work. He kept tabs on John during the day via video and check-ins with the staff. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, John still did little with himself beyond roam the house and sit in a chair pretending to read a book. He avoided the television or the newspapers for fear of seeing more headlines about Sherlock, but he simply had no motivation to do anything else. So it came as an unsettling surprise to receive a phone call from his head of security alerting him that John was being taken to the hospital after being found unconscious on the bedroom floor. At Mycroft's near frantic questioning, the man assured him that there were no injuries on John nor any pills around. It appeared he had simply passed out but they didn't know why. The hospital determined John was dehydrated, anemic, and hypoglycemic, all of which contributed to him passing out. They would be keeping him overnight to give some fluids and nutrients. John would not meet Mycroft's eyes nor would he answer any questions no matter what tactic he tried. Something was going on and he had to find out what. Leaving John in the care of the hospital, Mycroft went home to question his staff. No one could tell him anything unusual until he got to the maid. She told him that John was sick in the bathroom every morning after he went to work and if he managed to eat anything during the day he was usually sick after that as well. When asked why she hadn't reported it, she said she simply thought John had a virus of some kind. So either John was forcing himself to be sick or his grief and anxiety combined were making it difficult for him to actually stomach food.

When Mycroft returned to the hospital he was able to confront the matter more directly, questioning John about the maid's report. John was stubborn and evasive not wanting to answer the questions. Mycroft finally resorted to binding his wrists and clasping his neck to ground him before ordering him to answer the questions. It had all boiled down to anxiety and fear. Right now John was relying on Mycroft far more than he even realized, believing he was the only thing keeping him alive day-to-day. When Mycroft returned to working in the office, John was left alone with his thoughts in the large townhouse. It didn't take long for the dark pull of depressive thoughts to overtake him. He had become fearful that he would go in search of some other means of escape again. And that was just the first day. He was fine as long as Mycroft was there but as soon as he was alone the anxiety soared again. His stomach being already weakened from the previous months of grief and starvation simply couldn't handle the added anxiety.

Mycroft alerted the therapist once again and arranged to be at home with John through the end of the month. Mycroft made sure John ate well when he was with him and that he was able to keep it down. Anti-anxiety meds were prescribed and John's counseling appointments were scheduled more frequently to get him out of the house when Mycroft had to leave for work. Greg would come over more often during his off time, giving up on coaxing John out to the pub for now after Mycroft explained the effect the press and public still had on John. If his work consisted of mostly paperwork that day, Mycroft would take John with him to his office in the Diogenes for the day. Everything they could do to ease John's anxiety was done and in time he became more secure in his situation, the meds were gradually withdrawn, and the problem eventually resolved.

John shook his head in wonder remembering those rough first weeks. He didn't think he could ever thank Mycroft enough for being there through all of it for him.

It had taken weeks with the therapist and Mycroft's constant attention before John started to realize that he still had a life to live and that he could survive this all-consuming grief. As the months went by he came to rely on Mycroft more and more, allowing the Dominant/Submissive roles to structure their lives at home. He didn't go out much unless it was with Mycroft. He still saw Greg but preferred to have him come over for dinner, movies, or beer and a game. It had taken Greg a little while to get used to seeing John in Mycroft's home, hell he was still surprised John had agreed to it himself. Still John seemed content and looked better than he had in months, so Greg didn't push him about living there for now. As Mycroft promised, what they shared between them was kept very private, even Greg, being in the house, was still not aware of the relationship John had with his keeper, as Greg liked to refer to him. This lasted about four months until John began to feel guilty because Mycroft was so much more than his keeper, he gave so much of himself to John and did so much for him. John discussed his feelings with Mycroft then finally told Greg about their relationship, not all of it of course but that they were together anyway. Greg had been shocked to say the least and tried to accuse Mycroft of taking advantage of John, until John stopped him point-blank explaining that he would be dead without Mycroft's intervention and affection. Greg calmed after that and soon accepted the relationship easily. That was when John first knew he was falling for Mycroft.

He and Mycroft had explored the extent of their need to be Dom and sub together. While Mycroft was very clearly a Dom, he thought perhaps John would like to explore it as well given his military background. John definitely had some Dom tendencies but had no desire to try them on Mycroft. Mycroft even offered to take him to a club where he could try them out on willing subs. John hadn't wanted to when their relationship was so new but before the year was out they had explored John's Dom traits quite extensively at some exclusive clubs in London and on their occasional travels to other parts of the world. Mycroft would observe and participate as John wished on those occasions but they kept intercourse strictly to themselves. John was still hesitant to go to a club publicly as Mycroft's sub but wouldn't put it out of the realm of possibility at some point.

Mycroft had taken him shopping one day at a very exclusive shop catering to the BDSM community. He lived up to the threat he made that very first day, buying John a matching collar and cuffs of thick, golden caramel brown with gold buckles and heavy gold rings on the front and back of the collar. The set came with a matching gold choke chain or leash as one chose to look at it. John insisted on having Mycroft's initials monogrammed into the set, imagining having Mycroft take him to the club as his sub someday and wearing them. He nearly insisted on wearing them home from the shop but waited until they got home before stripping naked and begging Mycroft to put them on him. And a very pleasurable night that was too.

Sometimes John found he simply wanted the reassurance of having the collar on even if they weren't playing at the time. He didn't even think he could explain it to anyone beyond he and Mycroft, it was about far more than sex. There had been so much doubt and feelings of inadequacy after Sherlock's death. If he was a better friend Sherlock wouldn't have jumped. If he was a better doctor he would have seen the signs of Sherlock unraveling. If he had only told Sherlock he loved him he would have stayed. His whole world had exploded into chaos the moment he lost Sherlock.

Mycroft made it better. He gave John truth and honesty, safety and security, tenderness and love, a solid relationship that valued him for the person he was and not for what he could be or do for Mycroft. At home he was a lover and a sub, but outside Mycroft had given him new purpose. When they travelled John went as Mycroft's personal bodyguard, complete with a legally registered firearm and ongoing training and workouts to keep his skills sharp. While Mycroft could defend himself easily, John made sure he never had to. Mycroft had also helped him get set up as a concierge doctor, able to work as he chose seeing exclusive clients that paid well. This also allowed him to be available to The Diogenes club for dignitaries in need of medical assistance or in some cases clandestine operatives who needed medical attention off of the books, and occasionally the added bonus of sex over Mycroft's desk as well. Both things were stimulating and different from anything he had done before but utilized his history, training, and skill set to their greatest potential. He was never bored, never despaired over his life anymore. Emotionally and physically he was happier than he had ever been before.

The collar came to symbolize that stability to John and he found it comforting to have it on. John would wear it while he and Mycroft simply watched a movie together; Mycroft found he enjoyed it as well, rubbing his thumb along the collar marking John as his while they watched. When they discussed it between themselves, Mycroft admitted that he had never thought he would have someone who just needed him the person...the man, someone not just after what his government connections could provide for them. Someone he could love and take care of, to enable him to indulge the nurturing tendencies he had and have those feelings returned as well. Seeing the collar and his initials on John stirred intense protectiveness and affection in Mycroft, as well as pleasure. As the months passed they found it wasn't necessary all the time, as John got better and his feelings for Mycroft grew he found he just wanted to be themselves sometimes, to know each other man to man and not just Dom to sub.

They had been together eight months when John knew he loved Mycroft and told him so during a rare weekend away in Paris. Mycroft who had risked his heart and world without the guarantee of ever having his feelings returned was so overwhelmed that he found himself quite unable to speak for a time, but John understood. He made love to Mycroft for the first time on that trip with all the tenderness and attention that "Three Continents Watson" was ever known for. And if the joy of said lovemaking brought them both tears as they reached orgasm together, then that is indeed a memory worthy of two people in love. John knew then that he didn't want to ever be without Mycroft by his side.

His recollections scattered as the sound of a throat being cleared broke the silence. The driver had returned to take him back to town.

"Ah..hello Clarence," John rose to clear his breakfast quickly, "Sorry I didn't hear you come in, why don't you take a break, grab a cuppa while I gather my things, yeah?" Even after a year John found it hard to adhere to stiff formality with the staff, especially when Mycroft wasn't around. Clarence, however, was a veteran chauffeur and took John's relaxed attitude with grace.

"As you wish Doctor Watson, thank you." He moved to the kettle to prepare a cup of tea without further comment.

John knew the older man would appreciate the break so he didn't rush with his things. He actually only needed to collect a bag he had hidden from Mycroft for the surprise tonight, along with their bag of playthings for the evening as well. Once he had all the bags in the hallway, he made a trip to the bathroom largely to kill a bit more time so Clarence would get to finish his tea, then announced he was ready to leave. He always managed to time it well as Clarence was just placing his cup in the sink. Together they made their way to the garage, Clarence carrying two bags and John carrying one. They had gone through a non-verbal battle of wills when John started traveling with Mycroft over the bags. Clarence felt it was his job to load the bags and became offended if John did it for him. John saw no reason for the older man to wait on him if he could do it himself and thought he was helping. Mycroft saw what was going on, surprised that he would have to remind John that every person needs to feel useful. Properly chagrined John allowed Clarence to continue his job with the slight compromise of always carrying one bag. And if he tried to always grab the heaviest bag, well...Clarence didn't need to know that did he. Soon they were on their way, London was calling. London, Mycroft, and the future.

{*} {*} {*}

John had Clarence drop him at the flat and arranged for him to return in a couple of hours. True to his word Mycroft had not kept John from Baker Street once he was stable. John still came here often to check on Mrs. Hudson, to hang out with Greg in a less formal setting, or even to sleep when Mycroft was detained at work and the townhouse seemed too large for him alone. Mainly he used the flat as his unofficial office in the fight to clear Sherlock's name. Mycroft had encouraged him to channel his anger at the public and the press over Sherlock's death into something more beneficial. John, Mycroft, and Greg had worked tirelessly through all of Sherlock's cases and notes detailing practically every deduction he made to solve each case. They proved Richard Brook was a fraud and that Moriarty was real. John used the flat to give interviews and meet key supporters in their cause and finally, just last month, he held a press conference on the steps on 221B to announce that Sherlock had been cleared of all charges. It was a bittersweet victory since Sherlock could not be here to share in it but John was satisfied that he had done well by his friend at last.

Today he cleaned the little that needed done, as the flat was much tidier these days. He set up the surprise he had for Mycroft before checking the food and wine in the fridge for any last minute items he may need to pick up while he was out. When all this was accomplished, he went into Sherlock's room, the only place Mycroft hadn't bothered to keep cameras. He checked the top bureau drawer for the items he had hidden there just reassuring himself they were safe and sound. At the front of the drawer lay a long narrow gift-wrapped box, his anniversary gift for Mycroft, though it would bring both a great deal of pleasure. He shuddered, happily anticipating tonight despite his nerves. The most important package ,however, was pushed far into the back corner of the drawer, behind the socks and underwear. John pulled out the small, square, black box, unable to resist looking inside and running his finger over the smooth rounded surface. He had always hoped to marry but could never have planned on the intended recipient of his ring. He had planned for tonight over the past four months, no easy task when you are trying to surprise Mycroft Holmes, and now the deed was almost accomplished. He sighed in contentment and smiled as he returned the ring to its hiding place preparing to leave the flat. Things to do and the sooner he got to them, the sooner tonight would get here. Locking the door behind him, he took the steps with vigor as he went down to meet Clarence yet again.


	2. Chapter 2

His new office was in an ultra modern building all sleek and gleaming in the sunlight. John really preferred a more relaxed atmosphere but upscale clients expected upscale offices. His secretary, Joan Whitehead was already there fielding calls and emails. He actually hadn't booked any appointments himself for today or tomorrow wanting to fully enjoy celebrating the anniversary, with an added bonus he silently hoped. John disappeared into his private office and spent an hour replying to emails and updating charts before Joan appeared with a fresh cup of tea and a message. Seemed the ambassador from Sweden's daughter was sick and they were requesting the doctor's presence at the embassy. John thanked her for the tea, sipping it quickly while he gathered his bag and supplies. Soon he was off again with Clarence driving him to the embassy to see the girl. Thankfully it was only an ear infection requiring some antibiotics, rest, and mild medication for pain. John gave her an injection to start the antibiotic therapy, then left the prescriptions with the nanny to get filled. He promised to check in on the girl tomorrow evening to see if she was improving.

By the time he had accomplished all these things it was nearing tea time so he headed to the club to see if Mycroft would be free. He rang the bell at the private entrance, was shown in by the silent doorman, and taken directly to Mycroft's office. He was on the phone when John arrived but he smiled and waved him toward a seat as he spoke. John took a chair near the window to give Mycroft some privacy. Instead of grabbing a book he spent his time observing Mycroft, assessing his day so far. He hadn't spent all his time around Holmes brothers without learning a good bit himself. Mycroft sat in his chair with his jacket off, his shoulders were drawn up and tight, his lips pinched just at the edges, and lines pressed across his forehead from an unrelieved furrow there. Tense day so far, it was then. That might not bode well for the evening and John determined to relieve the tension if possible. Even as Mycroft brought the call to an end John was crossing the room to him. John stood behind Mycroft's chair and reached for the tense shoulders, his strong hands working firmly into the muscles as he placed a kiss atop the ginger head.

"Rough day My?"

Mycroft hummed in reply and groaned as fingers hit a sensitive spot. "Just the usual I'm afraid. A small crisis here or there but nothing catastrophic. At least all should be remedied before dinner," he smiled up at John who placed a soft kiss on his lips and continued to work loose the knots in his neck, shoulders, and back. Mycroft moaned happily as his tension eased away, "That feels so good John. You always seem to know just what I need and when I need it. Thank you."

John wanted Mycroft to relax completely so he continued his ministrations, "You're always welcome My. You know I enjoy being able to do something for you when you do so much for me." Mycroft didn't reply but reached his right hand up to cover John's on his shoulder and give it a quick squeeze. John saw no reason to quit as Mycroft eased back in his chair with a sigh. He let his eyes wander the room while he worked. As his gazed passed over Mycroft's desk a familiar red folder caught his attention and prompted a response. "You've had a new report then?"

Mycroft didn't even flinch as he replied smoothly, "Several actually, all in the past few days. Several high-ranking operatives known to have been part of Moriarty's network have been found executed in one manner or the other. Another handful were deposited on the steps of various police stations with the complete evidence trail of their crimes in a manilla envelope secured to their person. No one seems to know how they arrived there and all the CCTV footage of the supposed vigilante has either been wiped or is so sketchy as to be useless. The organization is in tatters and there is no one with enough power to pull it back together it seems. A few sightings of said vigilante have been reported. A tall, freakishly intelligent, gentleman with hair in varying colors depending on location and whom is reporting. No names and no follow-up to be found for any of them."

John made a non-specific noise in his throat before questioning, "Do you believe it is possible? Could it actually be him?" John never made a secret about wishing Sherlock wasn't dead but accepted it as fact and moved on, especially after Mycroft. Two months ago, however, Mycroft had begun acting odd….fidgety, if that description can even be applied to the reserved man. After a week of similar behavior, John had finally confronted him about it and Mycroft, who had made it a practice never to lie to him, showed him the red folder. Suspicious deaths within Moriarty's network, reports of a tall man infiltrating cells before they were destroyed, questionable sightings, all pointing in one way or the other toward the impossible. They had no proof whatsoever. Neither man had had any contact to point to, any lead followed resulted only in dead ends. So the folder remained and Mycroft calmly collected any and all reports that might give them answers. Still they had none.

Mycroft sighed. It was not the first time this question had been posed. Despite being fairly secure in John's feelings for him at this point, Mycroft had hesitated sharing the information with him in the first place. He hadn't wanted to give even a hint of hope for the impossible when John had barely made it past his grief….his love. Still he did share it and John was not alone in the small hope that his remarkable brother may yet live. There simply wasn't any proof to back it up. If it was Sherlock he was masterfully avoiding detection on all fronts.

"I want it to be possible John. I want it to be him as much as you but I rely on facts and concrete evidence of which I have none. I cannot say what the truth is and suppose we will continue waiting until the truth, if there be one, is revealed." The atmosphere had become too heavy in the room, too many insecurities, doubts, hopes, and fears felt and repressed between the two men. Mycroft chose to refocus those thoughts on the two of them instead. Reaching up for John's hand once more, he quickly pulled the man around in front of his chair, and down into his arms. He was amused as John tried and failed to fall gracefully into his lap, but since it resulted in his lover's arms around his neck and his warm body stretched out across him, he did not find cause to complain, even smiling outright as John's legs dangling over the edge of his chair. "Now, on to more enjoyable topics then," he quickly caught John's lips in a heated kiss. Pulling back a few moments later, he enjoyed the flushed look of surprise and arousal on John's face. "I have missed you all morning. I find I do hate it when our priceless time alone has to end for the mundane workings of life. You, John Watson, make me wish for once that I could run away from everything and just be with you always. I have never in my life experienced that desire for another person so sharply. Whatever have you done to me?"

John smiled, "I believe we have done it to each other. I could be with you day and night and still not seem to get enough." He gave Mycroft a mock demure glance as he queried, "What do you suppose we can do about this problem?"

Mycroft gave a small growl as he replied, "Not a problem for me at all." One hand quickly found the back of John's head as he reclaimed his lips for a deep kiss; while his free hand opened the buttons of John's shirt and found a hardened nipple to torment.

The position across Mycroft's lap was not conducive to further contact, however, and John quickly righted himself to straddle his lover. Pressing himself firmly against the growing bulge beneath him, he was intimately reminded of the plug he still wore while he resumed hungrily kissing Mycroft as he loosened his tie and unbuttoned the collar to better reach his throat. Mycroft as well had quickly opened John's shirt completely, pushing it off of his shoulders so that it hung around his elbows. Breaking the kiss, he pulled John forward and latched onto his right nipple sucking hard while one hand rubbed and pinched the left one. John gasped, pushing his chest into Mycroft's mouth as he ground his erection down against the hardness now fully present, the plug pressing right against his prostate causing a low moan as well. Mycroft growled again and nipped the tortured nub before moving to give its neighbor similar treatment. His hands soon busied themselves with the front of John's trousers. In a matter of minutes he had released John's swollen cock from his pants and was stroking him steadily, rubbing his thumb around the swollen head and the precum there. John could only moan watching him as he continued to gyrate his hips against Mycroft's swollen member. He leaned back , balancing himself with his hands on Mycroft's knees and continued to thrust against him, still watching the motions of the hand on his cock with half-lidded eyes. Mycroft couldn't help but admire the view.

"Just look at you, always so wanton for me aren't you John. I want to bend you over my desk, slip out that plug and fuck you right now." John couldn't stop the needy whimper at the filthy words, only Mycroft had the ability to take him apart so completely and so fast. Calculating eyes narrowed as they watched John, "But that's not what you want, is it John? Just look at you like that, such a sight spread out like that above me, grinding down on my cock…..you want to ride me don't you John. Right here in this chair you want to ride my cock and fuck yourself until you come," John bit back his whine of want and only nodded in response. Mycroft continued stroking John as he reached for the waist of his own pants prepared to do just that before a sharp knock at the door stopped him. Both men froze and Mycroft instinctively tightened his grip around the base of John's cock. John stifled his groan with his own hand and forced himself to stop moving against Mycroft while quickly pulling his shirt back up on his shoulders and mostly closed in front, his shirttails covering the evidence.

Mycroft knew it would only be Anthea and bade her enter. Anthea for her part did not react at all, merely sticking her head in to announce that the tea service had arrived. She had grown quite accustomed to the two men and their activities this past year as this was not the first time she had been forced to interrupt them. She was just glad to see her boss happy with someone who seemed to love him equally and in a way he deserved. "Thank you Anthea, if you would just give us a couple of minutes, then they can set up the tea." With a nod she was gone, leaving Mycroft to turn his penitent gaze on John, "I am sorry love. I seem to have lost track of the time or I would not have allowed us to get so carried away just now. I shall make it up to you tonight." He carefully released his hold on John's now softened member, sighing as he rose and started to right his clothes.

"Is that a promise," John questioned ruefully.

Mycroft smiled softly, nodding as he replied, "Most definitely."

John returned his smile and leaned forward, kissing him quickly, "Then I shall hold you to that. Now come and have something to eat because I can nearly guarantee you worked through lunch and I can't have you fainting away before dinner gets here."

Mycroft took his outstretched hand and rose just as the servers rolled in the tea trolley and began to set the small table he had near the window. Together they walked over, turning their attention to tea and food and general conversation. Despite the interruption, John was happy to see Mycroft more relaxed and in a much better mood now. They lingered over the tea until they had had their fill, and still they sat talking easily with each other. At length Mycroft sighed, "Much as I hate to end this, there is still a good bit of desk work that needs to be completed if I am to join you for dinner tonight."

Taking the hint, John set down his cup and pushed back from the table. "Well this is one date you are simply not allowed to be late for, so I shall be off so you can continue working. Meet me at the flat when you're done, alright? Say around eight."

"Of course, but am I still to know nothing of our plans," Mycroft queried.

John had absolutely refused to tell Mycroft anything other than to plan for the evening free and he stuck to his guns now as well. "You will find out when you get there. Now stop being so nosy. I've already disabled all the cameras in the flat for today so you…(kiss to his forehead)...will just…(kiss to his nose)...have….(kiss to one cheek)...to….(kiss to the other cheek)...wait." He finished with a lingering kiss feeling Mycroft's smile against his lips.

Mycroft gave in gracefully, tipping his head to John's, "If I must. I have never been one for impatience John but you seem to bring out the worst in me. But for you, I will engage my utmost restraint and wait for tonight to know the answer to this burning mystery."

John chuckled at his barely mollified partner, "Good. I'll see you soon enough." With a last kiss, he wrapped his arms around Mycroft and held him close while he whispered in his ear, "Until tonight love." Then he was off, shooing Mycroft to his work as he left and offering Anthea a conspiratorial wink as he passed her desk.

A quick stop by the office to type up notes for the ambassador's daughter, then stops to pick up Mycroft's favorite wine and dessert, and John was back at Baker Street to prepare for the evening. Mrs. Hudson was off to visit her sister so he knew they would have privacy. He put the wine and dessert into the fridge as he looked over the kitchen. There really was nothing else he could do just now so he opted to shower, shave, and dress for tonight. He took great care washing, grooming and dressing, everything done with an eye toward impressing and pleasing Mycroft. Italian leather loafers (a gift from Mycroft for his birthday), perfectly pressed and pleated wool trousers in a warm tan color, and an incredibly soft cashmere jumper in a deep maroon topped off the ensemble. These were the colors Mycroft favored on him and generally got the most compliments. However, the clothes were new as John wanted the whole evening to be a surprise. A splash of cologne, a quick ruffle of fingers through his hair and he was as ready as he could make himself. Until now he had been able to ignore his nerves but the later it got the harder that became.

At seven the caterer arrived with the entrée, as much as John loved to cook for Mycroft he didn't want to be busy in the kitchen all night, so he ordered something from Mycroft's favorite high-end restaurant. With the food safely placed in a warm oven to keep, John went about setting the table and preparing the salad. With half an hour to go he returned to Sherlock's room and gathered his gifts, the long narrow box he placed on the tea-table next to the chairs in the sitting room and the black box he slipped into his pocket. With fifteen minutes to spare he opened the wine to breath, lit the candles on the table and around the sitting room and put some light jazz on to play quietly in the background. He surveyed the overall effect with satisfaction as he heard Mycroft dismissing his driver downstairs.

John greeted Mycroft at the door with a brief hug and kiss before taking his hand and pulling him into the flat. He couldn't suppress his wide smile at the look of surprise on Mycroft's face as he took in the candlelight and John's casual elegance.

"We are staying in I take it," Mycroft asked.

John replied warmly, "Indeed we are. Why don't you go freshen up while I get dinner on the table. I've left you something more comfortable to change into after work….in Sherlock's room."

"And then will I be allowed to know what the occasion may be," was parried back.

"Dinner," was all John said as he pushed Mycroft toward the bathroom.

Mycroft took the opportunity for a very quick shower, wrapping a towel around himself and slipping into Sherlock's room to change. The clothes were not what he typically wore but proved to be a nice change. He was touched that John had done this for him. Obviously this was something John wanted to see him in and Mycroft hoped that he would be pleased with the results. He was ready in under ten minutes, leaving his suit lying on the bed, he made his way to the kitchen.

John smiled when he saw Mycroft in the new clothes, looking ever so slightly uncertain. He returned the smile however as John motioned for him to turn around so he could see the whole outfit. Mycroft wore his own pair of leather loafers, though his were Moroccan leather and dark grey. The trousers were a soft wool in heather grey, perfectly tailored and clinging sublimely to his frame. John admired the trousers smooth fit highlighting Mycroft's perfect ass just as he knew they would. A simple white button up shirt in Egyptian cotton was left unbuttoned at the throat, more casual than John saw Mycroft on practically any given day, and a cobalt blue cashmere cardigan completed the outfit. The blue set off Mycroft's ginger hair and blue-grey eyes perfectly, the whole effect quite dizzying for John and he had been the one to select the clothes. "God you look gorgeous My," he exclaimed, bringing a blush to the other man's face and a quiet thank you for the compliment. John's smile only grew as he held out a chair for Mycroft, "Come have dinner love." Mycroft raised an eyebrow in question but took the offered chair without another word surveying the table while John took his own seat. John poured them both a glass of Beaujolais, before raising his glass to Mycroft in a toast, "Happy Anniversary Mycroft," he offered with his glass, "Here's to many more to come."

Mycroft's face lit up and the genuine smile reserved for John alone graced his face as he returned the toast, "To many more indeed. Happy Anniversary John." He knew, of course, that today was the one year anniversary of them being together. He just wasn't sure if John knew or cared to be reminded of that dark time so he had not said anything. Apparently John had taken it upon himself to plan this evening for them and he was touched beyond words. He had never had someone who would make such a romantic gesture just for him and found he was grateful for John in his life anew.

John set down his glass and began to pass the dishes for their meal. A leafy salad of fresh mixed greens started them off, followed by a meal of Beef Bourguignon with mushrooms, honey glazed carrots and roasted red potatoes along with crusty French bread. They enjoyed the meal slowly sipping the wine and sharing fond memories of the past year together. Mycroft was quite content by the time they reached dessert. John served them both a rich silky chocolate mousse and freshly brewed coffee. John watched as Mycroft's mouth closed around the first bite of chocolate, smiling broadly and chuckling as he practically purred at the sinfully delicious treat. Mycroft only shrugged before continuing with his dessert, prompting John to do the same. It was only as they finished up the dessert and were sipping their coffee that Mycroft became aware of the nervous tension coming from John. He sat back and examined John carefully, waiting for something he seemed to want to say.

John had eased the ring box out of his pants pocket and had palmed it under the table for the past five minutes trying to decide how to start. For all his planning, now that it was down to the moment and the actual words John was at a loss. There was so much to say, to express, and he was never very good with expressing himself in this way. He might have stayed like that for the rest of the night but Mycroft's questioning tone seemed to kick him into action.

"John?"

"Uhmm….yeah, uhm..sorry Mycroft….got distracted there." Taking a deep breath John summoned his courage and began. "Mycroft a year ago, it is no exaggeration to say you saved my life. If you had not been brave enough to take me on, to push me out of the rut I was in, I wouldn't be here with you today. You and I know this to be true but I don't know if I truly let you know how grateful I am…..everyday... for you. Just for you Mycroft. You made me better, you have made this past year one of the happiest in my life. You loved me, even when I could not return that love, you still were there for me in every way. I am so glad you stuck around and gave me the opportunity to get to know you, to love you. I can't imagine my life without you in it any longer….and I don't want to either." Slipping out of his chair and onto his knee beside Mycroft, he held up the open ring box, "So I was wondering if you would do me the honour of becoming my husband and promising I never have to worry about that ever again?" He looked expectantly at Mycroft nervously awaiting his reply.

Mycroft could not find the words to express his profound love for the man before him, asking if he would marry him, as though he would want to do anything else. He had also managed to surprise him which was a rare occurrence in his life. But the surprise had left him with a predicament of his own, he shook his head puzzling over what to do now.

John of course, took Mycroft's hesitation and shaking head as rejection and sat back on his heels lowering the box to his lap wondering what he was supposed to do now. Mycroft belatedly realized his mistake and quickly fell to his knees beside John.

"My dear John, I am sorry you misunderstood. It will be the highest honour of my life to become your husband. But I am afraid that I can do so only on one condition," John met Mycroft's gaze with a mixture of puzzlement and expectation. Mycroft however could not contain his happiness nor the mirth glimmering in his eyes as he pulled a very similar black box from his jacket pocket. "And that is that you agree to become my husband as well." Holding the box up in one hand, he cupped John's stunned face with the other, "Marry me John."

John stared blankly at the offered ring for a moment before glancing down at his own box and beginning to laugh out loud. "Yes….yes of course I will marry you." He leaned forward to kiss his fiancé soundly. A fiancé who promptly replied, "And I you John." They stared at each other once more as the absurdity of the situation caught up with them and they both sat on the kitchen floor laughing. When he was able to catch his breath John managed to ask, "How long?"

Mycroft replied readily, "In my dreams? Forever. But realistically….since you told me you loved me in Paris. I have had the ring in my pocket for a month trying to decide when to ask. And you?"

John smiled, "The same. I've planned since Paris and had the ring hidden for the past two months waiting for tonight." He shook his head as they kissed again before finally getting around to placing each others rings on their respective fingers. They admired the effect of the rings on each others hands. Both in yellow gold, John's was a plain band polished to a bright gleam, fitted snugly to his finger with smooth, rounded edges to prevent snagging gloves when he worked. Yes, Mycroft thought of everything. Mycroft's had crisp smooth edges, but the center of the band had been etched repeatedly to achieve a soft, burnished shimmer. It was a bit more posh than John's ring but still understated for the government official who did not care for ostentation in his personal dress. In a word they were perfect for the men who wore them. John considered the rings for a moment before cutting his eyes to Mycroft and voicing his thoughts. "Anthea?"

Mycroft raised one eyebrow, smiled, and nodded. "But of course John. I assume you required certain assistance with shopping and maintaining your secret as did I." John chuckled and nodded.

"She has to be the most competent person I have ever known, Mycroft."

Mycroft nodded seriously, "Yes. It would seem so. I am disturbingly uncertain of whether I should be afraid of her deceptive capabilities or decidedly proud?"

John couldn't help but laugh, "I would go with decidedly proud….and perhaps a lovely reward for this particular feat of skill." He finally pushed himself up off the floor and offered Mycroft a hand. He passed him a fresh glass of wine with a gentle push, "Why don't you go relax in the sitting room while I clean up the kitchen, then we can...uhm….celebrate."

Mycroft kissed him chastely and raised his glass, "I shall hold you to that love."

Now that the proposal was out-of-the-way, John was excited for the rest of the night. He put away the leftovers, cleared the table, and quickly washed the dishes leaving them on the drainer to dry. When everything else was finished, John removed the nice tablecloth he had used for dinner. Now Mycroft would be able to see the other surprise he had for them. Now ready, John slipped off his shoes by the door and padded quietly over to Sherlock's chair where Mycroft sat sipping his wine and flipping through a book. Silently he lowered himself to his knees beside the chair, hands by his sides, eyes on the floor, and waited. Mycroft did nothing for several minutes, merely continuing as before. Neither spoke and John remained still. At length he heard the book close and the soft scrape of the wine glass being set on the table before he felt a hand on his head. A hand that now bore his engagement ring, he shuddered at the thought as long fingers combed through his hair.

"Would you like to play tonight then love," the soft question broke the silence at last.

John sighed, leaning into the hand caressing his head before replying, "Yes sir. Please may we play tonight?" He did nothing else beyond replying, waiting for approval and instructions to come.

The hand grasped his hair and pulled his head up to receive a blistering kiss before the reply came, "Very well. Bring me the bag, then stand here and strip for me."

John quickly retrieved the small black bag that carried their favorite playthings and lube, as well as his collar and cuffs, and brought it to Mycroft. Once the bag was delivered, he paused only long enough to watch Mycroft remove the collar before beginning to undress. He eased his jumper off over his head slowly, knowing how much Mycroft enjoyed watching him, before folding it carefully and placing it on his own chair. He unzipped his trousers equally slowly, his own cock twitching in interest as his fingers brushed past. John watched as Mycroft held his collar in has hands, long fingers practically caressing the soft brown leather, while he slid the trousers down his legs. Folding them as Mycroft preferred, John found himself already aroused simply by the prospect of the evening to come. Mycroft noticed the small spot of wetness already forming on John's pants and stopped him just as he reached to pull off the pants as well.

"Stop. Touch yourself, but only over your pants," Mycroft ordered.

John replied and moved to obey, stroking lightly over his swelling cock still trapped in his tight pants. John couldn't help but remember the first time he had been ordered to do this. Knowing now just how endless the possibilities of Mycroft's imagination could be his cock quickly swelled to fullness and began to leak freely. John stroked himself steadily without speeding his pace eying the hard bulge in Mycroft's trousers hungrily. He knew Mycroft would only let him come when he wished it so he did not try to rush. When his breathing began to speed up and his stroke faltered briefly, the command to stop came again and he drew his hand away, looking expectantly to Mycroft.

"Come here John." Indicating the space in front of him he directed John to the floor with only a glance of his eyes. Well accustomed to each other now, John followed the silent command quickly kneeling in between Mycroft's knees. Mycroft held up the collar and John leaned forward as it was secured snugly around his neck. The cuffs were also produced and fastened to each wrist but left apart for now. Once these were in place, John was able to feel the outside world slipping away as he sank into his role fully; his only focus now the man in front of him.

Mycroft leaned back in the chair and steepled his fingers, surveying John closely as he waited for whatever would come next. A few minutes passed before the question came, "Did you relieve yourself today after lunch? In the shower perhaps?"

John shook his head as he answered, "No sir I did not."

"No? Not at all?"

"No sir. I...I wanted to sir….but I knew it would be better not to do so. To..to keep...that edge for tonight would be better sir so I did not relieve myself." John hesitated only briefly in his answer but spoke the truth. He had wanted desperately to wank after the aborted seduction at Mycroft's office but he was used to delaying himself by now and he knew it only made things more intense later. And he wanted tonight to be memorable.

Mycroft merely smiled, reaching a hand out to run long fingers through John's hair and cup his cheek, "That is good John. It will indeed be better." He leaned forward and pulled John up to meet his kiss before continuing, "I believe I promised to make this afternoon's interruption up to you tonight, did I not?"

"Yes sir, yes you promised," John answered promptly. He couldn't wait to see just what Mycroft would offer as recompense. He didn't have to wait long this time.

"Stand up." John was swiftly on his feet. "Turn around and give me your hands." John did as instructed, soon finding his wrist cuffs secured keeping his hands restrained. He was turned back around sharply as Mycroft pushed and pulled against his hips. He expected a command. Instead Mycroft reached for his pants, slipping a long finger underneath the band on each side he began to ease John's pants down. He met and held John's gaze as he pulled the pants away and freed the flushed cock to bob lightly against John's stomach. He stopped when the pants stretched across the top of John's thighs and nestled against the crease below John's firm cheeks. John could not help the way his breath hitched as Mycroft pulled his eyes away to survey the twitching, leaking cock before him, but he gasped outright when he leaned forward and licked the hard shaft from base to tip before lapping around the swollen head to collect the pre-cum there. John steeled himself for the protracted tease he expected so Mycroft's next words were slow to register.

"You have made me incredibly happy tonight John...this whole year in fact, but especially tonight. I intend to have you every way I can manage. I want to fuck my fiancé until neither of us can stand and barely manage to fall into bed together. I am going to give you this release now because after that I will push your endurance and stamina to its limit. You will earn your release next time. Do you understand?"

John could barely find the words in the face of that declaration but finally managed, "Yes sir….I understand."

That was all Mycroft required before he gripped John's hips and took the thick cock down to the root. John groaned at the sight and fought the urge to thrust, knowing full well that Mycroft would stop if he couldn't control himself. Mycroft sucked him steadily, his lips a slow drag up John's cock followed by the slick furl of his tongue around the head before the sharp plunge back down, taking his cock deep into his throat and swallowing. It was exquisite torture. John wanted to thrust so badly, to fuck the mouth that usually spewed such posh words in the filthiest way possible. But he knew Mycroft's rules still applied, he would get exactly what he wanted him to get and not until he was ready. The pace continued as John fought for control and felt his orgasm building like a fire, slow to start but once caught it raged. Mycroft increased his speed only when he heard John's panted respirations and felt the muscles beneath his hands twitching repeatedly as they fought for control. Three more passes and John cried out just as Mycroft took him deep one last time and swallowed repeatedly around the pulsing cock spilling down his throat. He held John's hips to keep him steady and pulled off softly once he was finished.

John panted heavily and tried to suck in some deep breaths through his nose to get control of his breathing. It was a long moment before he could speak, "Tha….thank you sir."

Mycroft smiled before instructing John to step back. Once he had room to move, Mycroft rose to his feet and took John in his arms. One hand grasped a firm cheek pulling John against a very large erection while the other supported his back and pressing their chests together as well. He claimed John's mouth for a fiery kiss, exploring the mouth deeply as he thrust his tongue forward and sucked on John's in turn. John could only groan into the kiss, the taste of his cum in Mycroft's mouth driving him wild. The kiss continued, growing more passionate as both men tried to force themselves closer. When Mycroft could take it no longer he pulled his mouth from John's with a groan, quickly turning him toward Sherlock's chair and pushing him forward. John's knees had barely landed on the large cushion before Mycroft was pressing against his upturned ass, pushing him down until his head and shoulders rested against the back of the chair, a sharp push at his neck silently commanding him to stay. John complied turning his head to the side so he could better see Mycroft, his bound wrists twitching restlessly in anticipation. Mycroft did not speak, one hand released the zip on his trousers and began stroking his large cock as the other eased the plug from John's ass causing him to moan out loud once more. The next moment Mycroft shoved deep into him, taking no time to adjust he set a brutal pace fucking hard into John repeatedly.

John loved it like this and could only gasp and groan out his cries each time the large cock plunged into him again. "Oh yes! Thank you sir! Thank you for fucking me sir! It's so good...so good! Fill me up sir! Please!"

Mycroft's stamina was impressive and he fucked John ruthlessly without flagging. "I've wanted you bent over taking my cock all day…..would have fucked you over my desk if we hadn't been disturbed. That plug has to be my favorite toy, keeping your gorgeous ass ready for me all the time. That's what you like isn't it my greedy little soldier. Always ready for me…...always wanting my big cock up your ass…..you like being my little cock slut. Isn't that right?"

John's own cock was beginning to stir in response to the stimulation and Mycroft's filthy words. He sighed at the ecstatic feeling he got from being used like this as he replied, "Yes sir. I love that big cock up my ass. I want it all the time sir…..I want to be your slut sir, only yours." A particularly forceful thrust had him gasping once more, "AH! Ahhh….Yes! Yes sir, fuck me like that!"

With a low growl Mycroft leaned forward, curling his hands under John's shoulders and pulling him back to meet his thrusts at the same time he increased his pace, his climax approaching hard and fast as he fucked John. "I'm going to fill you up John and leave out the plug. You're going to stay just like this so I can enjoy the view of your well fucked hole dripping with my cum. You're going to stay right here until I say otherwise."

John barely managed a shaky 'Yes sir' before Mycroft thrust deep and held there with a cry as he pulsed hot cum into John over and over. He leaned forward over John's back, resting his forearms on the back of the chair while he caught his breath. Below him John was quiet, his eyes closed as he too caught his breath and enjoyed the afterglow with Mycroft despite not coming. The dull ache of his own cock part of his pleasure at his point. Mycroft gently kissed along John's shoulders, neck, and temple, wrapping his arms around to run his hands over the firm chest and hard nipples. "You did so well love. You took my cock so beautifully…..made me so happy. My lovely soldier."

John basked in the praise and comfort Mycroft showered him with, happy to have pleased him at any time but even more so tonight. Mycroft raised himself up, gently rubbing over John's shoulders and upper arms, checking the cuffs to be sure they weren't hurting John, admiring the way the candles sent flickering shadows across the naked flesh. Leaning down once more he gave John's earlobe a firm suck and a nip of his teeth before speaking low in his ear. "You are so beautiful like this John. So fine and strong, submitted to me…...bound but not helpless….all for me. You are exquisite and I shall never have enough of you John…..Never."

John, overwhelmed by the words, couldn't begin to think of how to reply. In the end he settled on simplicity. "Thank you sir. Only for you sir….always."

Mycroft stepped back as his cock softened and slipped out of John. Grabbing some tissues off of the small table by the chair, he cleaned up and tucked himself back into his trousers, still staring at John. Indeed enjoying the sight of his cum slowly dripping out of John's ass, his hole spasming regularly just begging to be filled again, while he remained bound and presented for his eyes alone. He picked up his glass of wine once more and sat in John's chair to better enjoy the view. There were no further words spoken. John closed his eyes as a blissful silence settled over them and Mycroft sipped his wine.

The night was still very young.


	3. Chapter 3

Pleasant moments passed in silence until Mycroft found his wine glass empty. Leaving John still perfectly posed he returned to the kitchen for a refill. He noticed the new additions to the table at once, contemplating them as he poured. With his glass full he leaned back against the counter, sipping slowly while he took them in fully. Fastened to each leg of the table were thick silver chains connected to wide, black leather edged metal shackles, the base of each firmly bolted into the table leg for stability. Obviously John had obtained them and attached them to the table in preparation for tonight, even kept them quietly secured and covered during their meal. He could see how the chains looped around a hook on the inside of the table legs so they did not move until they were removed. There were also several locking clamps hanging along the chain which could be removed and placed as needed, presumably to tighten or provide slack in the chains.

Mycroft smiled slowly. Oh John certainly did know how to make him happy. He always took great pleasure in deducing John's desires, and though this seemed rather straightforward there was always something more for him to determine. It was all a part of their play, just another reason John was so perfect for him. Knowing at this point that John was perfectly attuned to every sound and movement he made, in order to catch any instructions he must follow, Mycroft approached the table and unhooked the first chain. Letting it fall to the floor with a satisfying rattle and thunk he moved to the next chain. He did not rush as he repeated the process for each chain until they all hung loose and waiting to serve their function, knowing John's arousal would already be increased just from these sounds alone.

Collecting his glass he returned to the sitting room, observing John as he did so. John had not moved at all, he had long ago mastered control of his body in this state. However, his cock was once more swollen, hanging thick and heavy between his thighs leaking precum slowly in anticipation of Mycroft's next move. Mycroft smirked at the visible proof of the correctness of his assertions, certain John was already imagining himself chained to the table being fucked in some way.

As he walked over to John he couldn't help but admire the sleek hardness of the body before him. The definition of muscle in buttocks and thighs, abdomen and arms; training with the security detail had long ago returned John to his military ready strength and tone. Though Mycroft had always loved John, the man was positively sinful now and his own cock stirred again seeing this gorgeous man, knowing he was his and his alone.

Mycroft knelt beside John, reaching his hand out to comb softly through his hair. John's eyes opened readily and met his with an eager gaze. Mycroft took a large sip of wine before tugging John's head sharply forward to meet his lips. He kissed deeply spilling the aromatic wine into John's mouth while he in turn hummed softly, swallowing greedily and sucking Mycroft's tongue for every last drop. When he pulled away, he met those eyes again. "How are you feeling love? Okay? Would you like some more?"

John smiled, "Yes sir. I am fine sir. I would like some more please."

Mycroft returned the smile as he took another large sip and brought his lips to John's once more. As they parted again Mycroft began, "There seem to be some new additions to the kitchen table John, would you care to tell me about them?" He was rewarded immediately as John blushed beautifully while his pupils began to dilate.

"They are a surprise sir, for our anniversary. I thought you would enjoy them sir," he answered shyly.

John was in no way shy but he was an excellent submissive, able to please his Dom in even the smallest ways. Shy, blushing, vulnerable John was one of the sexiest things in the world to Mycroft, appealing to his need to take care of John at the same time it stoked his urge to dominate him. "Did you indeed, John?" He halted John immediate reply with a single finger pressed firmly to his lips. "Don't you mean that you would enjoy if I used them? Used them to chain you to that table and fuck you? Keep you on that table and use you all night long in any way I see fit? Or even leave you there and do absolutely nothing. Isn't that what you actually meant John?"

John drew in a shaky breath to reply with a whispered, "Yes sir. That is what I meant…..what I wanted. Please." John looked at him expectantly.

Mycroft had every intention of doing exactly that but he wouldn't give in to John that easily. "I see. You thought you would get to determine what I would do tonight? That you would have some control?" John shook his head and tried to answer but was prevented by the two fingers now pressed over his lips. "You should know much better than that by now John. If you can not remember your place then I shall have to consider a punishment to remind you." Again John tried urgently to proclaim himself innocent of the charge leveled by his Dom only to be met with one hand pressed over his mouth and the other gripping his head tightly by the hair. "Shhh…..be silent John. You do not get to talk yourself out of a punishment with sweet words. It has been sometime since you were properly punished. My fault really for being so busy and not taking a proper hand to you earlier. Well I shall rectify that tonight. You will not speak again unless I ask you a direct question. I will not stop you from making any sound but you will not speak. Do you understand?"

Released at last so he could reply John nodded vigorously, "Yes sir. I understand sir. I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to presume…" He trailed off into silence as Mycroft rose and left him. He remained still and listened intently as Mycroft rummaged in their bag. Then there was silence. Mycroft did not return to in front of him but he knew better than to try and look so he stayed as he was.

"You know I truly love seeing you bent over and spread for me John. I always have, ever since the first time, I love seeing my cum dripping out of you. Knowing that I fucked you, I marked you, no one else has ever done what I get to do to you John and I can't tell you just how much pleasure that gives me."

John flinched slightly as he felt a single finger trace up from his balls and over his perineum to his moist hole. Even without seeing he knew Mycroft was gathering a rolling drop of cum from his asshole. Then he heard a soft pleased hum and could imagine the sight of that single long finger passing between Mycroft's lips as he licked and sucked it clean. John moaned softly, instantly more aroused than a moment before. Cum play had turned out to be quite a fetish for John. Something most would think of as filthy he found exciting. He would never admit it to anyone outright but Mycroft knew and indulged him willingly. But what would he do tonight, John wondered. His thoughts quickly scattered when he felt Mycroft's hand on his lower back at the same time two fingers were thrust deep inside his ass.

Avoiding the prostate, Mycroft slowly fucked his fingers into John for a moment collecting the warm viscous fluid still coating his rectum. Once he was ready, Mycroft moved quickly. He pulled his dripping fingers from John at the same time he yanked his head back firmly with his other hand causing John to gasp. Mycroft pushed his long fingers deep into John's mouth and commanded, "Suck!"

The command wasn't even necessary as John instantly wrapped his tongue around the cum drenched fingers, lapping around and between the fingers as he closed his mouth to suckle them as well. He moaned obscenely at the taste of Mycroft's cum mixed with the earthy tang of his ass, literally the essence of them.

"Yes...you like that don't you John? You like eating my cum from your own asshole don't you my nasty little bitch! I could probably stand here collecting it in a spoon and feed it to you and you would still love it, begging me for more like the greedy slut you are." Mycroft fucked his fingers into John's mouth for a moment before taking them away only to plunge three fingers back into John's ass this time. He still avoided John's prostate but thrust his fingers in vigorously, twisting his hand around to scoop up even more cum.

"Oh yes sir!" John had answered before moaning once more. Trying hard not to thrust onto Mycroft's fingers as he hoped for their return to his mouth. To his great pleasure, Mycroft allowed him more of his treat as the three fingers were pressed into his mouth. John sucked and licked happily against the thrusting fingers making little contented sounds as he did, until Mycroft spoke again.

"Well I'd best leave some there for me. You know how much I love fucking your ass with my tongue John. Enough for you now."

The fingers disappeared and John whined, "Oh please sir….please give me more?!"

His lapse earned him a sharp slap to one firm mound, the skin instantly warming with the hot sting of a hand print. "I believe John, I told you to remain silent unless you were asked a direct question." A second slap marked the other cheek as well, "And I am the one who decides what you get and when you get it John. You seem to be having trouble remembering that tonight. I shall have to remind you so that you remember better in the future."

John whimpered softly as Mycroft left him once more but it was more from shame than pain. He had let his Dom down on tonight of all nights. He would deserve his punishment, not that it wouldn't be enjoyable as well. John sensed Mycroft approaching him once more and looked up, his eyes widened briefly when he saw what lay in Mycroft's hand. The red rubber ball gag was large enough to stretch John's mouth wide and prevent him from speaking but not from making sounds or breathing easily. Mycroft held the black strap and let the gag dangle in front of John.

"Since you can't seem to remain silent tonight, I shall give you some help," he spoke firmly, his voice without tenderness at the moment, only the firm command of a Dom. John met his eyes and opened his mouth for the gag. Mycroft placed it well back in John's mouth and buckled it securely around John's head. Once he was satisfied with the placement, he pushed John's head down onto the back of the chair. Returning to stand behind John, he ran his hands over the warm red handprints on his ass. He carefully knelt behind his sub, "Now I believe I was right about here before I was interrupted. Back to business." Without further ado he leaned forward and plunged his tongue as far as he could manage into John's leaking hole. John jerked in surprise crying out behind the gag as Mycroft wasted no time ravaging his ass with that long wicked tongue. There was no careful teasing, no flicking tongue, just long swipes of the flat tongue over and around his hole followed by the deep probing strikes of said tongue once again.

John was trembling in pleasure. He had never known how good this could be until the first time with Mycroft, and his Dom was a master with his tongue. John could not stop moaning, his cock was forming a puddle of pre-cum on the chair, his breathing had sped up and he fought thrusting his ass onto the invading appendage. He groaned loudly when Mycroft's hand wrapped around his swollen cock. He knew he was not going to be allowed to come again yet. This was going to be exquisite torture and he had learned to love it. The world no longer existed, only the two of them and their pleasure with and for each other.

Mycroft stroked John's cock firmly and steadily while he tongued the hole now twitching around him each time he pressed forward. He knew John's own climax was building but he wasn't kidding about earning his next orgasm. He was going to have to please Mycroft very well to get what he wants in the end. Mycroft pressed his tongue in once more, sealed his mouth over the puckered flesh and began to suck hard as he jerked John faster.

John could never stop the buck of his hips when Mycroft did that, too many nerve endings stimulated, the sensations too intense. He let out a muffled scream behind his gag, wanting desperately to fuck, or be fucked, to come and come for days, losing himself in the overwhelming sensations coursing through him; his body still fighting for the release his mind knew he would not get. He would never understand how Mycroft knew the exact moment to stop in order to deny his orgasm but it never failed to be perfectly timed. This time was no exception, just as John felt the crest of an explosive orgasm begin, the mouth was removed and long fingers gripped his cock tightly. John didn't even moan, merely lay there panting while the sensations ever so slowly started to recede.

Mycroft soothed him as he calmed, his free hand petting his back in light, long strokes from neck to ass. "So good John….You handled that so well love….I'm proud of you…..shhhh now."

The words of praise comforted and pleased John at the same time, relieved to have done something to have made up for his failing earlier. The intense arousal began to subside with the quiet praise, bringing John back to the present to focus once more on the desires of his Dom.

Mycroft sensed the change and released John's cock gently, "Time to get up now love." He helped John raise up with hands beneath him shoulders, then steadied him as he rose knowing he would be a bit stiff from being in position so long. Once John stood before him easily, he rubbed over his shoulders and down his arms, easing the tension in the muscles there. "Okay?" That was all he asked John by way of checking his readiness to continue. He received a sharp nod in reply as his only indication from John. He dropped his hands and stood back looking over John, circling him to take in the full picture. Gag still in place, wrists still bound behind him, chest still slightly flushed with arousal, the fading handprints still visible on his tight ass…..oh he was simply stunning. Mycroft growled his appreciation softly into John's ear, "Mine you gorgeous creature! All mine!"

John closed his eyes and sighed, enjoying the jolt of excitement the words sent through him.

Mycroft backed away reaching for the small side table and the long narrow package there. Holding it up he addressed John once more, "Another gift for me then? Another surprise for our anniversary? I suspect it is much like the first one, is it not?"

John met his eyes then looked away as he nodded in embarrassment.

Mycroft narrowed his gaze studying John a moment before replying. "Well lets at least see what it is then." John's eyes darted back to him as he began to peel the paper from the box. Once the paper was gone he immediately recognized the name of one of their favorite shops, the place they had gotten John's collar in fact. Eying John with one raised eyebrow, he removed the lid of the box and revealed its prize. A sleek, black leather riding crop lay in the bed of red tissue paper. Just over two feet in length with three-inch leather tab at the tip it was a thing of beauty. But the distinguishing feature of this riding crop was the handle, thicker than most standard crops it was comprised of a series of leather straps woven around the core of the handle ending in a tightly tied knot of braided leather. Mycroft glanced at John as he lifted the crop from the box, noting the blush on his face and increased respirations as he averted his eyes once more. Mycroft thought it odd but continued his exam before continuing his deductions. The handle was nicely weighted and fit his hand perfectly. He studied the handle in closer detail noting that indeed the diameter was larger than average. The knot was easily an inch and a half in diameter on its own then the remainder of the handle tapered down to approximately three-fourths of an inch where it met the shaft of the crop. Mycroft continued to assess the crop for a few moments before coming to his conclusion. The crop was not of standard production, this crop had been designed and custom-made to specifications he assumed John had dictated. Mycroft almost dropped the thing as he realized John had just given him a custom-made riding crop, presumably to use _on_ _him_. This was something new and strange, something unusual for John, something Mycroft would have to deduce and puzzle out. He soon found himself smiling broadly at John, so grateful and enamoured by the gift.

"Thank you John. It is indeed beautiful. I shall take great delight in determining how best to put it to use at a later time." He carefully watched John as he spoke. He had been met with eyes that sparked with excitement and an obviously interested cock. However when he indicated he would put off the exploration for later time, the shadow of disappointment passed over John's face before he covered it with stoic acceptance. Oh whatever John wanted with the crop, he wanted it very badly…..wanted it tonight. Mycroft knew John had not suddenly developed a taste for pain just as he had no wish to inflict it upon him. Beyond some spanks or slaps here and there, it just was not a part of their play. Mycroft unconsciously tapped the crop against his leg as he thought. Noting John's rapt attention on the crop he knew he would have to figure out this puzzle but nothing was coming to his aid at the moment. So for once he decided to wing it, just try a little of this and that to see if it helped, besides he had more of John's punishment planned.

Strolling over to John he let the tip of the crop barely trace over calf and thigh, hip and chest, down his arm and then up to his chin where he urged John's gaze up to meet his. John had kept his eyes on the crop the whole time, but Mycroft noted the way his breath still caught when the it touched his naked skin. Once John's attention was focused properly he continued. "I think it shall require quite a bit of my deductive skill to judge about this gift John and believe me my mind shall be intensely diverted by the mystery, however…..we have a punishment to get to don't we John?"

John's eyes had brightened and widened a bit before he nodded in response.

Mycroft took a tissue from the box on the small table and wiped the saliva drooling from John's mouth before kissing his cheek. "Very well then." He lowered the riding crop and took John's elbow, guiding him into the kitchen. He unlocked and removed the wrist cuffs, rubbing at John's arms and wrists briefly before turning him around. He took great pleasure in giving his next commands and watching John flush as his pupils tried to dilate even more if that were possible.

"Up on the table John. Lie back with your hands over your head. Knees bent, feet on the edge of the table, then don't move."

John scrambled to obey, hoping Mycroft would fulfill his fantasy after all. Once he was in position he stilled, realizing how obscenely he was spread out for Mycroft's use only heightened his arousal. Oh he truly was going to love this anniversary.

Mycroft lay the crop beside John on the table, moving silently to the end of the table he gathered the first chain. Locking the thick shackle around John's compliant wrist gave him an intense feeling of power he had never quite had before. It was intoxicating. He moved on to the second chain, binding the other wrist before drawing the two wrists together, locking the clips that held the shackles together. He adjusted and tightened the chains until John's wrists rested just over the edge of the table. There was still a small amount of slack but he hadn't finished just yet. He still remained silent as he made his way back to John's feet. He secured the shackles to each ankle but did not tighten the chains yet, that would come in a bit, for now he wanted John to obey without the restraint. Standing at the end of the table he pressed John's knees apart until he let his legs fall open wide. He growled at the sight before him. John completely bound, chest rising and falling quickly in anticipation, cock thick and twitching with arousal. Mycroft's gaze sweeping over John's body in this position caused the bound man to moan softly. Mycroft had never had John like this, not truly bound and at his complete mercy, his own cock throbbed in fierce delight at the prospect. He was beginning to see why John chose this surprise for their anniversary. A final small piece of trust between them, giving himself completely over to Mycroft's use….his full control and dominance. Mycroft at last raised his eyes to meet John's, equally as tender as they were excited, and offered a small nod and a smile in acknowledgement of the words unspoken in this gift. John had difficulty smiling with the gag but his eyes sparkled as he returned the small nod and closed his eyes with a sigh, relaxing into his position, waiting for Mycroft's next move. Mycroft thought he would love to keep John spread just like this for an evening just to look at him like this…..use him as he pleased, absently he noted that he would need to add another set of chains with some straps to hold John's thighs apart if he was to do that. Another time then. At last he spoke, "I won't tighten the chains on your feet just yet, I want you to remain just like this for me." He waited only for John to nod and then stepped away from the table.

John sighed softly, so far enjoying the restraints even more than he had thought he would. Now he could only hope Mycroft would successfully deduce his desire for the crop and this evening would be perfect. He could hear Mycroft rummaging about and definitely recognized the sounds of their bag. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stop thinking so he could sink even further into his own subspace. He focused on the weight of the shackles, the noise of the chains shifting, the stretch and pull in his body as he waited for whatever Mycroft decided to do next.

Mycroft observed John as he returned with his collected items, his eyes were closed and his body completely relaxed though he stayed perfectly in position. He knew John was lost to everything but sensations and him at this point. Smiling fondly as he approached, Mycroft trailed his long fingers over one ankle, up a well muscled calf and over a firm thigh before teasing over the solid cock. John's body twitched in response, his breath catching slightly as he tried to press into the feather-light fingers for more contact. Mycroft chuckled softly as he continued his path over the firm abdomen and chest, just brushing nipples on his way to John's throat where he spread his hand over the leather collar and pressed against it holding him to the table. He brushed the knuckles of his free hand against brow, temple, and cheek before following it with his lips, whispering in reverence, "So beautiful my soldier…..all mine aren't you?" John hummed softly and leaned into the kiss in response, still not opening his eyes.

Mycroft forced himself to pull away and picked the riding crop up from the table. He began to trail the thick leather tip over John's body again, watching closely for his responses as he talked. "I believe I said a punishment was in order…...a reminder of just who was in charge when we are engaged in play isn't that right?" John breathed deeply, greatly enjoying the smooth leather caressing him as he imagined the potential of the crop, so focused on it that he failed to respond. Mycroft still had little to go on as far as the crop so continued trying things out. Merely by instinct he raised the crop and snapped the tip sharply against John's left nipple. John grunted softly in surprise, eyes flying open at last, already hazy with arousal. He couldn't seem to decide whether to focus on Mycroft or the crop. Mycroft watched as the nipple reddened and hardened at once. Oh he liked that response but he was still trying to deduce John so he quickly repeated the action to the right nipple. He observed John's flared nostrils, rapid blinking over glazed eyes, and increased breathing along with an interested twitch from his cock. So…..likes that then...but surprised by it.

"I believe I asked you a question John? Does your punishment need to include a refresher on manners as well?"

John managed to drag his gaze from the crop to Mycroft as the question finally reached him. He carefully shook his head in reply.

Mycroft slapped the crop sharply against his palm, John's pupils were so dilated barely any color remained as he blinked in response. "We shall see John. We shall see." He returned the crop to John's chest rubbing over the now sensitized nipples, moving slowly down until the leather caressed his erection. He allowed the crop to linger watching as John's eyes darted sharply up to his as he attempted to somehow protect his most intimate area, slight fear was the predominant emotion this time. A sharply raised eyebrow was enough to send John back into position before Mycroft gave the slightest shake of his head with a soft shush to allay that fear, moving the crop on to the expanse of spread thighs before him. He quickly marked the insides of each thigh with the crop causing John's hips to jerk as he gasped for breath and let out a low whine in his throat. Mycroft caressed the red marks tenderly as he met John's gaze once more. "For doubting me," was all he said. He continued, swiping the crop over John's balls and across his ass before pressing the leather against his perineum. Noting instantly how John subtly lifted his hips, trying to rub himself against the crop. Interesting. Exploring and deductions finished for the moment he lay the crop aside, once more noting John's apparent disappointment, however he was far from finished with the crop for tonight. Reaching into his pocket he withdrew a thick black cock ring, holding it up for John to see before it was secured firmly around his erection.

John groaned at the sight knowing his punishment would be intense as the cock ring could only safely stay on for thirty minutes. His nipples and thighs still tingled from the sting of the crop, his enjoyment of the marking still new, and his cock now began to throb as well. Whatever Mycroft had planned it would be as much excruciating torture as it would also be exquisite pleasure. He didn't have to wait long as he felt something blunt press firmly against his entrance before filling him completely. He moaned and closed his eyes once more as Mycroft began to fuck the dildo….vibrator, he didn't even know, in and out of him. He only knew that it felt amazing and Mycroft knew just how to torment him. He would pull out and push the head in and out shallowly, stimulating the tight ring of muscle. Then he would thrust it in deep making sure to hit John's prostate. The cock ring would prevent any release but Mycroft added insult to injury by gripping the swollen cock and stroking it steadily with the thrusts of the toy. John flexed his arms against the shackles and chains seeking some distraction from the growing need for release. Mycroft's position between his thighs prevented him from moving his lower body as well, still he tried to fuck himself onto the toy and into the tight fist unable to fight the instinct though his mind knew it would be fruitless. Then suddenly everything stopped. Mycroft had released his cock and left the toy buried deep within him as he stepped back. John could only blink slowly in dazed confusion as Mycroft lowered first one leg from the table then the other. The toy pressed tightly against John's prostate in this position as his knees dangled over the edge of the table. The sound of chains rattling finally pierced his hazy thoughts and he felt a sharp tug at his ankle as the slack in the chain was tightened. Soon both ankles were securely bound to the table legs pinning him down and keeping the toy wedged deep in his ass. Mycroft returned to his arms as well, removing the last bit of slack left in those chains also.

Then he was gone.

John wondered if this was to be his punishment then, to be bound and ignored. Anything was possible. He flexed against the chains once more, testing their weight and how they felt. He had practically no ability to move, he couldn't see where Mycroft was nor what he was doing. He now had given up every last scrap of control he possessed to Mycroft, which was the point of the gift after all. Yes, they had never tried bondage to this degree and yes, John wanted to try it, but on tonight of all nights when he asked Mycroft to marry him he had wanted to be able to give every last bit of himself to the man he loved. Trusting him fully with any and everything he could have possibly held back before now. He found he enjoyed the feeling of being bound a great deal, waiting for the will of his lover, the anticipation of what would happen next, the knowledge that at some point he was being watched….observed…..bound and helpless. He lost himself in these new sensations, all awareness of time, all concern….gone, trusting that Mycroft would take care of him and keep him safe once more. He was starting to believe he could fall asleep just like this when the jolt of the toy pulsing deep within shocked him instantly into straining against his restraints as his body tried to arch up from the table. The pulse was over almost as quickly as it had begun, leaving him breathless and all of his nerve endings on fire, uncertain of what would come next even as he craved it.

Mycroft sat across the room in Sherlock's chair watching John, his submission so complete, so perfect he found himself fighting his own heated arousal once more. He held the remote to the vibrator in his hand…..waiting in silence. Just as John caught his breath again he turned the toy back on at its lowest setting causing the bound man to moan and twitch. Mycroft increased the speed incrementally, watching John come apart as the vibrations against his prostate grew stronger. By the time he reached the highest setting, John's head was thrashing from side to side, his body taut against his bindings and covered in a fine sheen of sweat, cock rigid purple and weeping against his belly while John moaned and cried against his gag intermittently. He was staggeringly beautiful like this and Mycroft appreciated the gift he had been given all the more. He turned off the toy abruptly leaving John whimpering softly behind his gag, tears of desperation falling from his eyes, and panting heavily as his body tried to relax. Mycroft forced himself not to press his hand against his own erection while he gave John just a moment of reprieve. As John caught his breath in a long shuddering sigh, Mycroft rose from his chair thumbing the control to high instantly. John screamed and jerked hard against his chains. Mycroft crossed the distance quickly to bring this punishment to an end. John didn't even register his presence, so lost in his own pleasure/pain at this point. Mycroft quickly released the cock ring, leaning over to speak low and direct into John's ear giving the command.

"Come for me."

John was on fire in a way he had never felt before, nerve endings sending signals throughout his system but the focus remained on the core of his body. His orgasm writhing deep in his groin eager to escape as the stimulation drove him to the brink of insanity. He had no way to know when this torturous pleasure would end, he could only endure. He was well beyond thought by the time the command came, operating by senses and instinct alone. His body froze, his scream unable to find voice as an intense orgasm ripped through him. Pulse after pulse of cum exploding from his abused cock to land across his chest and abdomen. Even as they slowed and his cock began to soften, the aftershocks still shook him. John couldn't remember ever being so overwhelmed by his own body and struggled to regain his equilibrium.

Mycroft watched it all with immense satisfaction, knowing that John had trusted him to take him apart so completely. His own arousal subsided somewhat as his focus became taking care of John. He could see how far gone his lover was and recognized the struggle he was having finding 'normal' again. Gently he released the shackles from both wrists and ankles lowering John's arms to his sides. Then he unbuckled the gag and eased it from John's mouth before carefully sliding the vibrator from his body, causing only a soft hum from his sub. He tried not to provide any undue stimulation to his strung out sub but spoke quietly as he worked praising John for doing so well…...so beautifully, and telling him how proud he was of him. He left only long enough to get a warm wet cloth, returning to carefully clean the drool from John's face, chin, and throat as well as the cum from his chest and abdomen. When he was finished John was still well under and Mycroft knew this recovery would take some time. Sliding his arms under John's knees and behind his shoulders he lifted him easily from the table and carried him to the sofa where he would be more comfortable. He arranged him on his side with a pillow for his head and tucked the warm blanket from the back of the sofa over him. Fully expecting John to doze lightly or outright sleep for a bit, Mycroft procured a book and prepared a cup of tea before sitting on the other end of the sofa by John's feet. He rested his left hand over one ankle just so John could know he was there then proceeded to read and drink his tea while John recovered himself.

It only took ten minutes or so for John to come around. Waking with a small start, he blinked slowly to orient himself, turning at last towards Mycroft when he felt pressure against his ankle.

"Welcome back love. You took your punishment so well that I shan't blame you for your absence. Now come here." John look a bit guilty as he scrambled awkwardly up to sit beside Mycroft as indicated. A possessive arm wrapped around his naked waist and held him close as Mycroft handed him a warm cup of tea. After months of practice it was easy enough to sense when John was rousing, he had prepared the tea just moments ago, returning to the sofa just before John woke. "Drink your tea love, there is still much to be done tonight."

John leaned against his Dom, enjoying the steady warmth of his body as he sipped his tea, answering softly, "Yes sir." Once he had finished his tea, Mycroft took his cup and returned it to the side-table.

He stroked his fingers through sandy blonde hair as he spoke. "I'm not nearly through using your delicious body for my pleasure John. And I still have some deducing to do as well." He had picked up the riding crop from the coffee table whispering in John's ear, "Spread your legs."

John responded instantly, his focus once more glued to the riding crop as it ran slowly up the inside of his thighs. Remembering the sharp sting of his last punishment for doubting Mycroft, John forced himself to keep his legs apart as the crop approached his cock which was once more showing interest in the proceedings.

Mycroft watched John, watched his body responding to the threat and tease of the crop, delighting in searching out the mystery of John's desire. He let the crop trace over his soldier until it was under the strong jaw. Pushing until John's head tilted back and he was looking at him, he spoke firmly, "Lay along the couch on your stomach and up on your elbows with your head at my lap." As John complied, he turned part-way around in his seat, pulling his left knee up onto the couch as well before he unzipped his trousers and released his long ignored erection. He wanted to see and be able to reach all of John spread out before him while he sucked his cock. He found he made his best deductions about what John wanted when his own dick was shoved down his throat. It made him very aware of even the smallest of John's responses. When John was in position he didn't bother with further commands, merely twisting his fingers in the short hair before him and groaning deeply as he shoved the warm mouth down onto his shaft. John needed little instruction in pleasing Mycroft this way and immediately began sucking and lapping at the swollen cock, taking it deep into his throat and swallowing repeatedly. Mycroft shivered in response, his cock buried deep in John's throat still one of his favorite pleasures. However, he needed to last a bit longer this time. Tugging at the tousled head again until he drew John's eyes up to his, "Slower. I want it to last." He laid the tip of the crop along one cheek and felt John's breath stutter along his cock as his eyes fell half closed in response.

Mycroft wanted to let his head fall back against the sofa and thrust into that moist heat but couldn't indulge that urge at the moment. Eying the body spread out before him he allowed the crop to travel slowly over each curve, every taunt line, until he reached the swell of perfect ass once more. He tapped one thigh indicating his command to spread once more. John complied slowly, his breathing having become more ragged and his eyes fallen closed again under the touch of the crop though he in no way shirked in his cock-sucking duties. John was stunning when he surrendered to subspace and Mycroft admired him for a moment before snapping the crop against one firm cheek. A grunt and low whine vibrated around his cock, not exactly a decisive clue so Mycroft repeated the action on the other cheek with a bit more force. John's hips rutted sharply against the sofa as he grunted again and whimpered softly.

'Getting there,' thought Mycroft.

He rubbed the tip along the crease of John's ass, down over his hole and along his balls, quickly noting the sharp intake of breath and the slight twitch of hips towards the crop. Remembering John's response earlier he commanded sharply, "Use your hands and spread those cheeks open for me but you may not stop sucking."

John shifted his balance carefully, reaching his hands down to his ass while he kept Mycroft's cock in his mouth. His breathing was approaching the panting stage as Mycroft deduced the crop. He knew Mycroft would get there soon and he wanted it so badly. He fought not to rut and give it away instantly, the game was just as important as the result.

Once John had spread his cheeks, baring his twitching hole, Mycroft rubbed the crop firmly over the same again. He noted John's breathing had picked up significantly as well as the speed of his cock-sucking. He thought only a moment while trailing the crop over the area before he snapped the tip sharply against the tight pucker then immediately rubbed the leather tab against the hole. John bucked sharply against the leather tip as a shaky moan escaped his stretched mouth. He barely gave John time to register the sensation before repeating the sharp snap, but this time he pressed the leather tightly against the hole, pressing inwards ever so slightly.

John couldn't stop himself this time, so close to what he wanted. He ground himself back against the leather, releasing his prize as he moaned loudly. This cost him the removal of the crop and a stinging blow across the top of his ass cheeks. He whimpered both from the loss and the blow as his head was jerked forward and down onto the abandoned cock.

"I don't believe I said you could stop John," Mycroft growled at him as he thrust deep into his throat for emphasis and held there, groaning himself watching John's nostrils flare wide as he tried to breathe. "Look at me! I want to see your face when you swallow my cock." John strained to comply, putting his neck at an odd angle since he couldn't use his hands for support. They were still firmly clasped on his ass because he had not been given permission to remove them. Needless to say workouts with the security detail had done wonders for his core strength. Gripping either end of the crop in his hands Mycroft watched John carefully. "That's right love….stay just like that….spread wide while you suck that cock. You want that cock don't you love?" John nodded eagerly around the thickness stretching his mouth open. "That's right. My greedy little slut always wants cock doesn't he…...but there's something else…..isn't there?" John's eyes were heavily lidded again as his Dom used him, Mycroft watched as they slowly tracked down to the crop in his hands, drifting over to his right hand where the handle rested in his closed palm. He felt John moan low in his throat, vibrating around his cock, as those eyes fell closed for a moment before returning to his face. The pieces clicked together in Mycroft's mind. Turning the crop around in his hand he clutched the handle and brought the knotted leather down to stroke John's cheek watching those eyes fall shut again as a shiver of anticipation passed through his sub. When John opened his eyes and met Mycroft's the only response was, "I see."

With only a beat he leaned down and whispered darkly, "But this is about what I want John." He reached forward to the chain trailing from John's collar, twisting it around his hand he gripped the back of the collar holding him firmly in place on his cock as he rose from the sofa dragging John roughly to his knees in the process. Now that he had his answers, he truly had held out quite long enough. He grabbed the collar in both hands and fucked deep into John's mouth and throat with another deep groan of pleasure. He pulled out only to thrust forward again and again as he ground out his next words. "Yes I know what you want John. But this...," he shoved deep listening to John gag as he took the hard cock down, "this is what you are getting. Now take that cock and be happy with it you fucking slut."

John nearly went limp under Mycroft's dominance but did his best to suck and swallow the cock battering his throat, laving it with his tongue when he was able, eagerly seeking his reward.

It did not take long for Mycroft to come, forcefully spilling down John's throat as he gulped and swallowed the salty warm treat. Mycroft held himself steady until the aftershocks passed then tossed John against the sofa cushions while he tucked himself back in and zipped up. Delaying his own gratification always made Mycroft a much more intense Dom, John lay exactly where he'd been tossed awaiting what would happen next. When his clothes were once more impeccable, Mycroft took a single deep breath before grabbing John's chain and collar again. He gave no commands merely dragging John across the floor to the kitchen still on his hands and knees. He pulled on the collar until John rose to his feet before him. Grasping the firm jaw in his hand he treated John to a vicious kiss, sucking the taste of his come from the willing tongue and biting the lower lip sharply.

John gasped and moaned at the rough treatment, hoping for a bit more as he responded to his Dom, his own cock coming to life once again. He was not disappointed as Mycroft broke the kiss suddenly, turning John sharply and shoving his chest down onto the table. His arms were quickly pinned above his head and the non-verbal command to stay was given. Mycroft kicked John's legs further apart and knelt to secure the shackles around his ankles. He left no slack in the chains this time either. Once finished there he moved forward to John's arms, forcing him to stretch across the table top Mycroft shackled each wrist and tightened the chains leaving just enough slack to allow John up onto his elbows if he desired.

Mycroft left him there but returned momentarily, cock ring and riding crop now in hand. John wondered seeing the cock ring again but said nothing. Mycroft saw his question anyway, flexing the crop meaningfully in his hands before he brought the thick knotted handle back to John's face, stroking along his cheek and across his lips. "I am going to give you exactly what you want John," leaning forward he brought his lips to John's ear, that silken voice sending electricity through every nerve ending as he spoke, "but first I am going to mark you. Then I am going to fuck you and I don't won't you finishing before I am ready to fill your ass again."

John shivered in anticipation, sighing deeply as he melted into the table. He never had wanted pain during sex and he still didn't, it was more about the heightened sensitivity of the nerves when they were stimulated in this way. John had at least wanted to try it for the increased intensity of the sex and hadn't known how to talk to Mycroft about it. Just as well he loved deducing John's desires and fantasies, because he was still the only person John would even entertain the idea for. And, it seemed John thought, that perhaps Mycroft had a bit of a fantasy himself judging by his behavior and degree of arousal.

His thoughts were quickly interrupted when Mycroft yanked his head up roughly and pressed the handle against his mouth, commanding him to open. John readily opened his mouth as Mycroft thrust the crop inside commanding him to suck as well. John moaned as he closed his eyes and wrapped his mouth around the thick leather, sucking eagerly as Mycroft thrust the handle in and out of his mouth with one hand, while still holding his head tightly with the other.

"I always knew you were greedy love….but look at you now. One cock isn't even enough for you is it? You want more inside you don't you? Such a slut my soldier is."

John moaned at the filthy talk, always surprised at how it affected him as much as he was that Mycroft did it so well. He sucked and slurped around the handle until Mycroft jerked it away, leaving his head to fall to the table again. He felt deft fingers sliding the cock ring back into place before a stinging line bloomed across his cheeks sending him bucking into the table reflexively even as he gasped loudly.

Mycroft smoothed his palm over the path of the crop, soothing the sting ever so slightly. "Oh that is lovely John! How many should it be I wonder?" He paused a moment in thought before reaching his decision, "Five more I believe, since we're just starting out, and you will count each one as well as be properly appreciative. Do you understand?"

John didn't know if it was excitement or uncertainty that made his voice shake, but he answered nevertheless, "Yes sir, I understand." A crisp, "Very well" was his only reply before the crop whistled through the air, setting fire to his buttocks once again. John couldn't stop the thrust of his hips nor the softly gasped, "Oh god.." before he remembered himself and quickly replied. "One, sir. Thank you sir."

Mycroft hummed in response, admiring the marks he had made only a moment before snapping the crop again, crisscrossing the marks already there. Oh how John bucked and writhed against the table and restraints as the blows fell, before responding in a voice that shook but was eager for more. Mycroft knew he would never forget tonight as long as he lived, sending the third strike across his lover. He paused to rub his hands over the raised marks and the warmed skin, noting the twitching muscles as he did so. John was panting heavily and Mycroft noted the precum dribbling freely from his cock already. He knew John was far more affected by this than perhaps he even anticipated. Mycroft warned him softly, "Last two now," before giving the two blows sharp and swift back-to-back.

John managed to count and thank his Dom properly then all he could manage was mumbling "oh god….oh god" over and over as he gently rutted into the table. It was more than he ever hoped, his ass stinging but sensitive to every touch of Mycroft's hand against him. He could only imagine what it would feel like to be fucked like this and moaned, hoping for just that as he began to plead softly. "Please...oh please My…..please…" That seemed to be all he could get out but as always Mycroft understood. John heard the click of a bottle cap before he felt his cheeks spread with one hand as something blunt but rough pressed against his opening, the cool of the lube an electrifying sensation on his hot skin. As it entered him steadily John could feel various ridges and bumps touching him inside, moaning loudly as it finally passed over his prostate. "Yes! Yes….please….oh god...more!"

Mycroft smirked as he fucked the handle of the crop into John, "That's what you wanted isn't it love? You had this crop custom-made so I could fuck your gorgeous ass with it didn't you? The braided knot especially, you wanted to feel it scraping inside of you, dragging across your prostate over and over." He kept John's still hot cheeks spread with his left hand while his right fucked John steadily, his hand working the crop deftly much like a farm wife would churn butter. John couldn't even manage to speak properly, the stimulation of the crop driving him wild, he could only nod his head meekly as the next thrust tore another groan from him. Mycroft fought his own hungry moan at the sight of John like this, his erection already at full mast again and eager to be buried in his lover's ass. Mycroft considered for only a moment before he acted.

John felt the movement of the crop stop but it was not removed. Mycroft's hands left him for a few moments leaving John wondering but too blissed out to care what was coming next. He soon felt both of Mycroft's hands on his ass spreading him open again, the crop pushed as deeply as they dared. John felt pressure against his hole, his jaw falling open as Mycroft pressed firmly into him alongside the crop. John could only growl at the fullness as Mycroft began to fuck into him. It was too much and not enough at the same time, John loved the fullness and the friction but Mycroft couldn't really let go and fuck him hard with the crop in the way. Still John found himself trying to thrust back against Mycroft for more.

Mycroft chuckled as he thrust into John as hard as he could in this position, "My filthy little slut. Knew you needed more cock in that greedy hole, I shall have to remember that in the future if I am to keep you well fucked." He pulled out fully to work over John's prostate with the knot of the crop again before pushing it deep and thrusting home himself as well, while the endless litany of , "Ahh...ahh…..oh god….yes….more..just more...please," fell from John's lips. He knew neither of them could hold out much longer at this rate. He pulled out long enough to remove the crop and the cock ring to John's deep groan. Gripping John's hips in his hands, he spread his cheeks with his thumbs and without preamble fucked deep into his sub, setting a hard and fast pace.

Though well aware of the pleasure of his body and his growing urge to come, John drifted blissfully in subspace. So much stimulation tonight, Mycroft's dominance so complete and intense, his body was coursing with endorphins and adrenaline and for all intents and purposes, John was high as a kite. His head turned to the left towards the kitchen door. His eyes blinking slowly as his body was used roughly. He moaned softly almost chuckling to himself as he thought he saw movement in the shadows of the hallway. He knew of course that he and Mycroft were alone but his mind continued with its meandering thoughts while he still gazed at the doorway and moaned for still more from his Dom. He was really just staring into space, not focused on anything particular beyond Mycroft's dominance and the sensations of his body.

That was until the light seemed to shift and the shadows solidified and John found himself staring at an impossible ghost standing in the doorway of his kitchen.

He was staring at Sherlock Holmes.


	4. Chapter 4

Sixteen months in hiding had honed Sherlock's skills to a fine art, the trip to 221B made in shadow, avoiding the ever watchful eye of his brother's CCTV cameras. Peering out from a nearby alleyway, he found he was no longer surprised by the intense sense of longing just the sight of the familiar doorway caused to well up within him. Soft light flickering in the windows upstairs let him know someone was home. John, his heart and mind supplied in unison. These long months of torment and suffering to make sure John would be safe were finally over and he could come home to the man who meant more to him than any person ever had before. A man who had become his reason to live, to survive. He could share it all with him now, just a few more feet and he would be there. A moment of exposure was allowed as he swiftly picked the lock of his own door, it wouldn't matter if his brother saw now anyway.

Once inside he took a moment to simply breathe deeply the familiar air of home. No light or sound came from Mrs. Hudson's flat so obviously she was either in bed or out. The doors upstairs must be open as he became aware of a steady litany of noises. He slowly climbed the stairs, avoiding all the boards that would warn of his arrival. As he drew nearer the sounds grew more distinctive; an ongoing series of grunts and moans, as well as several repeated 'Ohs' and 'Ahs'. Years of overhearing John with the few dates he actually brought home or during his frequent bouts of masturbation, left Sherlock in no doubt as to the source of the sounds he was hearing. Either John believed he was completely alone or he had gotten much braver having the flat to himself to be engaging in sex in the main flat with the doors open. Out of habit Sherlock quickly squelched the jealousy he automatically felt for anyone John was with. It wasn't as if they had ever been together and John thought him dead, what did he expect the man to do. He briefly toyed with the idea of leaving and coming back later when the date would be over, however now that he was home he was loathe to leave for any reason. Perhaps he could slip into his room unnoticed and wait; or maybe up to John's room, either way he continued stealthily up the stairs trying to ignore the sounds of pleasure coming from the flat.

He was not prepared for the kitchen doorway to be open when he reached the top of the stairs, nor for the sight and series of rapid deductions that met him in that moment. Almost without thought he drew closer to the door to take the data in more fully. John. John was laid out across their kitchen table, no scratch that, John was shackled to their kitchen table with a collar tight about his neck. A golden chain trailed tantalizingly down his back as he lay spread taut and quite obviously nude. He did not appear to be in any pain or distress, rather quite willingly participating in...whatever this was; though Sherlock thought he did look a bit as if he was drugged. It was only as that deduction registered that Sherlock realized John was looking at him, a hazy blissful look to his eyes. Sherlock stood perfectly still, unsure of what to do even as his mind continued to make deductions, unable to stop processing the scene before him. John's rhythmic grunts in time with the rocking of the table led to perhaps the most startling deduction Sherlock had ever made about his flatmate. John was the one being fucked, not the other way around. And from all indications, his partner was a man. Sherlock struggled to make sense of this new data, his perpetually 'not gay' flatmate was now quite happily bent over getting his ass fucked. What had happened while he was away? Had he missed something about John before? Nothing added up in his head and he again edged slightly closer to the doorway trying to take in more clues. He did not register at first that John's gaze had cleared a bit and sharpened as he actually focused on him.

John wavered somewhere between subspace and alertness taking in the spectre in the doorway even as he himself was being watched. Thinner than he had ever been, hair falling on his shoulders and dark circles under his eyes, the man he was looking at had obviously been through a lot and bore the signs of a story to tell. He couldn't focus on much more than that as Mycroft was intent on wringing every last drop of pleasure possible from his body tonight. Then several things happened.

Mycroft's voice spoke dark and sinful behind him as he continued his assault on John's prostate. "Is this what you wanted John? My soldier likes being held down and used like a whore, hmm?"

John groaned loudly at the filthy words and powerful thrusts, drifting back towards subspace as his lover continued. "It's time to fill that gorgeous ass again, fill you up, and plug you so I can fuck you again and again. That's what you want now isn't it?"

John was just stuttering out a "Please?!" to his Dom when his mind caught up with what he had seen a moment before but failed to register in his sub haze. He had seen the moment Sherlock heard Mycroft's voice and realized who was here with him. He had seen the shock and uncertainty filling those familiar eyes. But most importantly, he saw the moment of decision and the slight turn of the man in front of him; Sherlock was going to leave. He was going to leave and if John knew him at all, he would disappear and never be seen again unless he chose. John couldn't have it, couldn't lose Sherlock all over again with only this brief moment between them. The words snapped out of his mouth without any conscious thought to Mycroft or his own position; John speared Sherlock with the fiercest Captain Watson gaze he could muster as he struggled between states.

"Don't you fucking move!"

Sherlock froze in the doorway. That voice. That commanding Captain's voice he had heard only a few times before but had fantasized about repeatedly since. He then met John's gaze, the gaze that meant business, the gaze that did not bode well for any person that chose to go against it. He had no idea how John could exude such power in his current state but he was helpless against it. He stayed.

Mycroft had frozen as well, uncertain what John was up to. But when nothing further came from his sub he took it as part of the play, John would sometimes act out intentionally to spur Mycroft into rougher sex. Mycroft knew at this point that their 'play' was winding down for tonight and had no problems obliging John's desire in that case. Wrapping the chain firmly around his hand, he grabbed the back of John's collar and jerked his head up and back forcefully. John moaned loudly as he raised up onto his elbows and arched his back beautifully for his Dom. "Trying to be in control again John?! Still haven't learned your lesson tonight then?!" John attempted to shake his head only to have it jerked tight again. Mycroft pulled out slowly then thrust deep into John as hard as he could. "You don't get to tell me what to do John." He pulled out again and John whimpered in anticipation before Mycroft thrust home once more forcing a cry from him. Mycroft continued to pull out and fuck hard into John steadily building speed as he spoke again, "I will fuck you exactly how I want for as long as I want and I will fill your ass with my come until it spills out of you and puddles on the floor if I want it to. Do you understand me?!"

John choked out a 'Yes sir', knowing he couldn't last much longer at this rate. Sensitized and overstimulated by the activities of the evening and now aware of his audience, John was on the verge of a mind-blowing orgasm. He kept an eye on Sherlock in his peripheral vision while he enjoyed Mycroft's thick cock pounding into his ass. He was already panting and he knew it would not be long now, the sensations burning through his groin. Sherlock stayed put, still looking a bit shell-shocked as he watched John. His cheeks looked a bit flushed and John wondered briefly if he was feverish before allowing his gaze to slide over his friend once more. It was John's turn to bring wide surprised eyes to meet Sherlock's piercing stare as the sight of a rather large erection in those trousers triggered his own most splendid orgasm. John was practically yelling as wave after wave racked his body.

Mycroft had released John's collar and grabbed his hips, jerking him firmly back into his thrusts as he fucked right through John's orgasm and quickly followed, spilling himself deep inside his lover. John lay against the table, trying to keep his eyes open and on Sherlock as he fought to catch his breath. Mycroft remained sheathed in John's body bracing his weight against the table with his hands while he too breathed deeply. Once they had calmed, he leaned forward laying over the sweaty back as he slid his left hand up John's arm to entwine their hands, admiring the effect of their rings together once more. He nuzzled against John's ear, kissing him softly, "You were wonderful, love. So perfect…..simply beautiful."

John smiled and turned his head to meet Mycroft's lips in a gentle kiss. As they parted he gripped Mycroft's fingers in his and whispered, "We have company My," his gaze drifting over to the silent figure in the doorway.

Mycroft followed John's gaze, blissful smile still on his face. The smile was rapidly replaced with surprise, then just as quickly wiped of any expression as he donned the stoic mask he had always worn with his brother. After a brief head-to-toe assessment Mycroft spoke, his voice sounding as cool and collected as ever, "No need to lurk in doorways, brother dear. Might as well come in, it is still your home after all."

John couldn't help rolling his eyes at that. He had managed to forget how antagonistic the brothers could be toward each other having lived with the gentler, kinder side of Mycroft for the last year. He would certainly have to see what he could do to change that. Shifting slightly to remind Mycroft of their current state he finally spoke, his voice low and soft after this evenings events. "My? Don't you think..uhm, we should clean up?"

Mycroft's expression instantly softened as he returned his attention to John, just because they were finished did not mean his responsibility to John had ended. "Certainly John," he rubbed a soothing hand along the rapidly cooling back, "just a moment." Sherlock had taken Mycroft's advice and entered the flat properly, though noting the state of his chair he was unsure of where to sit, so he now stood by the fireplace silently watching the proceedings. Mycroft eased out of John's well used hole, but not without a slight wince noted, quickly tucking himself back into his trousers for the time being and zipping up. He picked up the black plug from the bag he had placed on a nearby kitchen chair and carefully inserted it as John moaned softly. Then he wasted no time removing all of John's restraints, rubbing ankles and legs, wrists and arms as he did so. At last helping John to stand beside the table, he ignored his brother's presence and took John into his arms, his hands moving slowly up and down the muscular back and over the curve of ass, soothing and gentling John after so much rough use tonight. John sighed as he sank into the familiar embrace, comforted in spite of the shock he had just had. After several moments of this, Mycroft gently gripped John's chin and tilted his face up to met his lips. They met in a soft lingering kiss, reassuring each of the love for the other. When they parted John finally spoke again.

"Perhaps I should shower and get dressed while you two talk, hm?"

Mycroft gave a slight nod, "If you wish, love. Do you want me to remove your collar?" In that one question, he had asked so many. Questions only he and John understood. 'Are you okay?' 'Will you be alright?' 'What do we do now?'

John understood everything Mycroft was asking and thought a moment before answering. "No, leave it on." And Mycroft understood his reply. 'No, I'm not okay. I need the comfort and reassurance of your collar around my neck right now.' 'Yes, I will be alright, I just need some time.' and 'I don't know what else to do."

Mycroft nodded again, retrieving John's clothes from the arm of his chair, he handed them to John with another small kiss, "Don't be long."

John merely smiled, "Certainly, it is still our anniversary after all." He placed his own kiss on Mycroft's lips before addressing Sherlock for the first time, "Sherlock, if you'll excuse me." And that was all. He took his clothes and strolled towards the bathroom unashamedly naked, the chain hanging from his collar down his back drawing attention to the plug peeking from between his lush cheeks as he walked. John remained oblivious to the hungry, covetous gaze of both of the men he left behind.

Sherlock had taken in every moment between John and his brother, each minute shift in expression and tone. Obviously something significant had happened while he had been gone but he was so rattled that he couldn't begin to correctly process the data he was gathering. He took in the flat, so many changes visible, that he wasn't sure it still felt like home, even though he saw familiar things as well. Everything was wrong. He had suffered greatly while he struggled alone trying to be sure John would always be safe. He was supposed to come back to their home, to his chair and to his...His John making him tea….and it would be alright. Everything he had undergone and survived would be okay because John would be there and John always made it better. He would be okay with John. Sherlock sucked in a deep breath trying to calm the chaos in his head. He was here…..John was here…..but it wasn't right. Somehow his own brother had usurped his place with John, had achieved with John everything he ever wanted but somehow wasn't able to pursue. He was confused, angry even, but so unsettled right now that he didn't want to lash out and rock the boat. Something in his chest ached and his body was suddenly more exhausted than he thought it had ever been, even during his trials the past months. If he had been able to talk with John, his friend might have told him he was heartbroken and he would scoff at the ludicrous notion.

He had yet to say anything, trying desperately to make sense of a world gone surreal around him. It finally registered that Mycroft was actually being uncharacteristically silent, he could never pass up the opportunity to make a snide remark at Sherlock's expense so what was up. He refocused his attention on his brother and fought to observe once more. He was thinner than he had ever been and dressed far more casually than Sherlock had seen him since they were children. Must be John's influence he thought, but all things considered Mycroft looked….good. Healthy and….happy. Happy with His John! He thought about all the times Mycroft had chastised him for his sentiment over John and fought to squelch the anger and jealously again. He just didn't think he needed to alienate his brother at this point so he locked those thoughts away as best he could when his Mind Palace seemed to be undergoing some kind of upheaval. He observed Mycroft carefully cleaning…..wait…..cleaning? Yes, his uptight, "summon the servants" brother was cleaning up the kitchen, locking the restraints back into place and even wiping up the….products of their activities. And resolutely determined to leave the first step up to him it appeared. Sherlock took another deep breath and stepped towards the kitchen.

"You..ah, you didn't seem overly shocked to see me, brother," he stated as blandly as he could manage.

Mycroft stiffened slightly but turned to face him. "No. I can't say that I was, Sherlock." He picked up the black bag from the chair and gestured towards Sherlock's chair pulling out some kind of wipe or cleaner. "I'll have your chair taken care of in a moment Sherlock. When this dries it should be perfectly sanitary for sitting." That was all. He moved across the room and dedicated himself to cleaning the chair without another word. He managed to conceal his nerves completely from his younger brother. He wasn't dreading any teasing from Sherlock about his sentiment and affection with John. No, he fought the irrational fear that his world was about to implode. John loved him, he knew that. John had just asked him to marry him and vice versa. They were planning on a future together. Just because Sherlock had returned, nothing had to change, nothing at all. He repeated this mantra, constantly hoping that he would finally convince himself. The problem being that he was intimately acquainted with how deeply John had loved, perhaps even still loves, Sherlock. He nearly died of heartbreak without him. And he was fairly certain, despite his remarks to the contrary previously, that Sherlock loved John. And now he was home. He was home and Mycroft had no idea what was going to happen. He wielded all the power of the British government on a daily basis but he could not just flex his political muscle and make this go away.

Sherlock stared at his brother, unable to reconcile the brother he knew with this man before him. And his question still wasn't answered to his satisfaction. He allowed his steps to carry him across the floor until he was beside Mycroft. "But why were you not shocked?" He wasn't sure why he needed to know so badly. He had been most studious in avoiding every manner of detection for sixteen months yet his brother barely blinked when he apparently returned from the dead.

Mycroft straightened from his task and faced his brother directly for the first time. He saw exactly what John had seen, all the signs of fatigue, malnourishment, mistreatment, and suffering. He had no doubt that the person responsible for all of those reports in his red folder was indeed Sherlock and he had a pretty good notion of at least some of what his brother had been through to get back home. He acted the second the impulse struck and soon had his arms wrapped tightly around his brother. "It is so good to have you home again Sherlock. We have missed you…..I, have missed you greatly."

Sherlock cleared his throat gruffly and shifted his shoulders before returning the embrace. He intended only a brief hug but once he was wrapped fully in his brother's embrace he found it difficult to let go. He had been so alone, without friend or family to aid him and it had been harder than anything he had ever done in his life.

Mycroft didn't comment, only held his brother more tightly. As the embrace drug on he finally answered the question. "I have a folder filled with reports. Reports about components of Moriarty's organization found dead or captured, evidence for arrests and convictions mysteriously turning up, but most intriguing are the reports of a man….always in the shadows, always involved, but never quite seen."

Sherlock pulled back at last to look into his brother's eyes. Eyes which shone with a warmth and love he had not seen since they were much younger. He couldn't help but marvel at his brother's tenacity. Even after what appeared to be a most decided death, his brother and John still watched out…looked for him...somehow.

"We had no proof that it was you, John and I, no way of contacting you or helping you. But we hoped, Sherlock. As dangerous a thing as hope can sometimes be, John and I kept an eye on the reports as they came in. We watched as Moriarty's web crumbled and we hoped that somehow it was you and that you might yet come back to us. So now you finally have, and now you know why we weren't shocked to see you, brother dear. We had faith in you and believed in at least the possibility that you had somehow survived and set out on this mission alone."

Sherlock could not believe it. Faith in him, his brother said he had faith in him. It was the highest praise he had earned in years and it had cost him dearly to do so. John's faith he more or less expected to a certain degree but Mycroft's was a welcome surprise.

" I should be beyond furious with you simply for having to deal with all these repercussions if nothing else. But contrary to popular belief, I care a great deal for my brother, you see, and I am very grateful to have you back." Mycroft politely ignored the tears glistening at the edges of Sherlock's eyes, patting his back and squeezing his arm as he stepped away. "Best let me get on with the clean-up, John will be out soon and we won't want to leave you with our mess as you try to settle back in."

Sherlock quickly brushed at his eyes before catching up with Mycroft's statement. "Leave me...to settle back in….doesn't John still live here?" He scanned everything over again quickly but nothing seemed so different as to scream John's absence at him. He needed John so everything would be okay and he could not comprehend what Mycroft was implying, or rather he refused to allow himself to comprehend.

Mycroft looked Sherlock over with both puzzlement and concern. "John is more comfortable staying here when I am out-of-town or tied up for an extended period of time but otherwise he lives with me at the townhouse Sherlock. I would have thought that would be obvious to you."

Sherlock shuffled back and forth on his feet, as he ran his fingers through his dirty hair absently contemplating a hot shower later and mumbling something about being distracted before spinning around and pacing to the window. He paused when he saw his violin, obviously well cared for still, his fingers brushing softly over the strings as he let his attention drift out to the street below. He was trying his best to analyse everything he had been observing since he arrived, slowly deciphering bits and pieces. He finally hit upon the sight of two left hands joined together and the gleaming, if not matching rings, on each corresponding ring finger and the word anniversary. He closed his eyes, clutching at the window frame for support and forcing himself to take slow deep breaths to ward off the panicky feelings he was having.

Mycroft continued his cleaning, gathering up their supplies and such but casting searching looks toward Sherlock every so often. He could tell something wasn't quite right with his brother, his deductions slightly off, but he chalked it up to fatigue. Sherlock probably just needed a hot meal and a long rest, then he would be right as rain again.

When Sherlock thought he could speak without betraying his anxiety, he asked the obvious question on his mind. "Are you and John married then? I heard him say anniversary."

It was the first time Sherlock had mentioned his relationship with John and Mycroft tensed as he replied. "No. Not yet. We have only become engaged tonight actually. The..uhm..anniversary is for our being together as a couple for a year." Mycroft wasn't trying to be hurtful but he did believe in being direct. Best if Sherlock understood where things stood up front.

Sherlock released his death grip on the window frame and rubbed some circulation back into his hand as he breathed a silent sigh of relief and replied, "I see." It would still be okay. John wasn't married. Sherlock quickly did the math, so four months after his 'fall' something happened, something that brought John and Mycroft together. Impossible for him to guess and irrelevant beyond morbid curiosity. It didn't matter anyway. John would come home to him, he just knew it, John was His first and he would be here where he belonged. He would take care of him like he always had before and everything would be alright. He could make everything alright again as long as he had John.

Before the fall, Sherlock would have censored himself and questioned his rambling and obsessive thoughts about John. But something had happened during his time away and John had become the talisman that pulled him through his lowest points, the beacon that guided him home. He had been able to take refuge in thoughts of John when the physical trials became too much, when the sanctity of his Mind Palace was threatened. It had been an imperfect solution and he had not survived completely intact but John would make it all better. He just knew it. Without His John, all of his suffering would become brutally real and he didn't think he could face that. No….John had to be here…..John had to help.

Mycroft placed their bag by the door and turned his troubled gaze back to his silent brother, "Look Sherlock, I know things will seem a bit….strange for you now, being back here. But John and I are here for you, we're going to help you with everything? You won't be on your own anymore. That's a good thing isn't it?"

Sherlock remained silent but nodded his head and waved briefly in acknowledgement. Still he did not turn away from the window. Until the water stopped flowing in the pipes. He turned around eagerly to face the bathroom. John was finished he thought happily to himself. John was coming.

{*} {*} {*}

With so much happening at one time, the onset of actual shock had taken several minutes. John was already beginning to hyperventilate before he shut the bathroom door, leaning his forehead and hand against the wood. "Sherlock," whispered from his lips to the empty bathroom. "Sherlock," he repeated, noticing the clothes in his left hand trembling. "Sherlock," broke forth again on a sob, as the clothes fell to the floor. John quickly covered his mouth with his now free hand as the sobbing threatened to become uncontrollable, shielding his pain from the two men who could most easily pick up on it. He slid to his knees and let the tears flow, right hand still pressed to the wood as if reaching to reclaim his long dead friend. So much sorrow, anger, and self recrimination had been for nothing as the cause now stood in his sitting room vividly alive. He had nearly died because of it for Christ's sake! His body trembled as the chills set in and he rocked back and forth in an effort to warm himself. How could Sherlock do that? How could he make him believe…...and then just waltz right back in like it wasn't anything. John had not felt this much pain and hurt along with anger since the 'Fall' itself. Yet all of that was easily over-ridden by the joy at having Sherlock back. Having the man he loved more than anything back among the living….back with him. He could tell him now...tell him how he felt….tell him….they could…...John's hand had finally slid from his mouth as the sobs grew quieter only to rest against Mycroft's collar at his throat.

'Mycroft!' Oh God! What in the world was he even thinking?! He glanced down at his shaking hand and the shiny new ring there. He was engaged to Mycroft! He loved Mycroft! Sherlock had just returned and witnessed him having very intense and intimate sexual relations with his brother! He cried quietly cradling his head in his hands. What were they going to do? It was really all too much for one night, the anniversary, the engagement, submitting completely to Mycroft, and then being confronted with the biggest desire your heart ever had returning from the dead. John could not stop the tears nor the choking sobs that still tore from his throat periodically, but he knew that Mycroft would come check on him if the shower did not start soon. He was too ashamed of his own heart's immediate betrayal to face either man yet, so he forced himself up from the floor and over to start the water, steadfastly ignoring his reflection in the bathroom mirror as he did. He picked up his clothes and placed them on the edge of the sink while the water warmed, before carefully unbuckling the collar around his neck. He never actually showered with it on and he fingered the soft leather lovingly as he placed it with his clothes and stepped into the shower.

He stood for the longest time under the hot spray, the tears that still fell disappearing with the water while he waited for it to relax the tension in his body. When it became apparent that he would not be able to relax, he reached for a flannel and began vigorously soaping up. Every time he tried to think rationally about tonight, a new sob broke forth so he forced himself to stop thinking. He could never leave the bathroom to face his best friend and his fiancé like this. John forced himself into soldier mode, shutting away his chaotic emotions and instead channeling his energy into getting through the rest of this evening without giving himself away. Sherlock looked like he might need some medical attention so he allowed the doctor to dominate his mind as he thought over what his friend may require. He soon found himself focused and calm, ready to face what awaited outside of the bathroom. He turned off the shower, quickly towelling dry and beginning to dress. The collar went back on first. John could acknowledge that his emotional state, while locked up tight for the time being, was precarious and he desperately needed that reassurance. Once he was dressed, he wet his flannel with the coldest water he could get from the tap and pressed it over his eyes hoping to conceal at least some of his distress from the sharp eyes and keen minds outside. He finished by scrubbing quickly over his face with the cloth to disguise some of the redness around his eyes with the redness of a fresh scrub. At last he was as ready as he could make himself. He turned to face the door, squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and reached for the doorknob.

{*} {*} {*}

Sherlock stepped forward eagerly as he heard the bathroom door open, smiling when he saw John approaching. He had had very limited opportunity to interact with John, to reconnect, and he was feeling the need to do so acutely. He froze in his steps and dropped his happy, expectant smile into something more bland when John stopped beside Mycroft and slid his arm around his waist.

Mycroft, however, had been watching Sherlock the whole time….and he saw everything.

Focusing his attention on John, Mycroft easily saw the degree of distress he was in as well as the soldier's resolve to just get on with things. His arm instinctively tightened around John's waist, his eyebrows furrowed in silent concern. John knew right away that Mycroft saw through him and only hoped his distance from Sherlock, both across the room and the intervening months, would keep it from him. John reached up to kiss Mycroft softly before speaking with false cheer, "All set then love?" His eyes quietly pled with Mycroft to just let it go for now. After carefully scanning him over again, Mycroft relented.

"Yes. Everything cleaned and ready to go. How about you?"

John glanced over at Sherlock, thinking he looked even paler than he had earlier. "Well just from looking at him I thought Sherlock might be in need of a complete exam from his doctor. See if there is anything I need to treat before I order him to eat and sleep." John sent a meaningful glare towards Sherlock and he pointedly ignored him. John had been grateful there had not been shouting going on when he came out of the bathroom. However, with these two even silence could be quite brutal and deadly. John wasn't sure how long they could stay in close company this first evening before something broke. "Do you want to stay while I do that? Or take our things home and I'll meet you back there in a bit?"

Mycroft would gladly stay, happily do anything John wanted in order to ease his distress. He had also seen the naked hunger on Sherlock's face when John came out before he managed to cover it up. He couldn't stop the nervous anxiety he himself felt at the prospect of leaving John alone with Sherlock; but he felt it was only fair to give John the chance to speak with Sherlock privately as well. If the conflict and anxiety he had seen in John's face was anything to go by, nothing would be gained or resolved by keeping the two men chaperoned at all times. Curse him for a fool with a noble heart! "It has been a very long day John. I think I shall go home, maybe have a relaxing bath while you finish up here." He chuckled a bit too gaily and said, "Don't even be surprised if you come home and find me dead asleep already."

John cocked his head and studied his love. He had come to know him very well this past year and he read the doubts and insecurities behind those placid blue eyes as easily as Mycroft read his distress. That he was the cause of those doubts was nearly the undoing of his resolve. "My?" He spoke softly and intimately to keep the interaction just between them. "My...you don't have to go. I'm not asking you to go.." He was promptly silenced with a lingering kiss before Mycroft replied.

"I know, love. But I am choosing to." Another quick kiss and Mycroft gathered the bag by the door and his suit, now neatly hung, "I shall see myself out so you can get on to your exam, John. Sherlock? Behave for once and I will see you soon I am certain. There will be much to do." Then he was down the stairs without another word.

John lingered uncertainly by the door until he heard the downstairs door shut firmly and Mycroft's muffled voice speaking to Clarence. With a deep breath and a sigh, he turned to face Sherlock.

Sherlock had again been studying John and Mycroft intently, his deductions only marginally improved from earlier. He eyed the collar still at John's throat, well-worn but lovingly cared for, and wanted to understand more. It was nothing he could have ever pictured, well...maybe for Mycroft but certainly never John. Obviously there was much he either misjudged or simply did not know about John. Had he always suffered a blind spot in his deductions about John? When John finally faced him he spoke abruptly, "He loves you a great deal, John. I….I never realized he could….love, for one thing, but…..the way he loves you?" He trailed off, uncertain of where he meant to go with that deduction. He didn't want to think about Mycroft. He was here with John, alone in 221B, everything as it should be. Except that it wasn't.

"Well, no use dragging it out Sherlock. You look like shit and I'm sure you haven't been taking care of yourself properly either. So come on, off with the kit and let's see the damage, see what I need to treat or let go."

Sherlock flinched when John mentioned damage and turned back to the window. "That's really not necessary John. I just need to eat and sleep."

"I am pretty sure that I need to be the judge of that, unless you became a doctor while you were away. Now this is no time to be skittish." John stepped forward and reached to remove Sherlock's coat only to find himself on the floor a moment later. He was too startled to move for a moment, glancing up at his friend, only to see a Sherlock he had never known. Sherlock stood over him on alert, ready to strike at the least provocation. But his eyes frightened John the most, they were not just cold and calculating, they were hard. The eyes of a man who would not give an inch, a man without mercy, a man who had killed and would do so again if required. John remained frozen on the floor watching Sherlock. The friend he knew had a heart capable of tenderness and kindness, a heart that never should have been exposed to whatever Sherlock had had to go through. In a few moments John saw Sherlock's eyes soften, saw him glance around in confusion before lighting upon John. His eyes widened in awareness as he backed away from John until he hit the window behind him. He stood trembling and breathing raggedly against the window but he made no move toward John. Holding up his hands in surrender, John slowly stood, darting his eyes over his friend, seeing him in a new light. John saw a man so acclimated to the fight that he could not figure out who to trust. He couldn't tell what was safe and what was threat. Sherlock had spent the past sixteen months being a different kind of soldier, one not bound by conventional rules of warfare. John certainly recognized PTSD when he saw it.

"Sherlock? It's okay….it's just John. I won't touch you again alright? You're safe here, you can relax." He watched closely as Sherlock returned to himself, at least he had to be thankful Sherlock still registered his name as one to trust. Sherlock seemed embarrassed as he drew his coat more tightly about himself.

"I'm sorry John. I didn't mean…..I would never want to….I'm sorry," he finally mumbled turning away from John again. Sherlock was kicking himself for acting that way with John, the one person in all the world he trusted implicitly. It was just a damned reflex, ingrained during his travels. But the fact remained he had struck out at John and convinced him he was at least partially deranged when he really needed and wanted contact with John. He simply wasn't prepared for him to actually see the wounds and scars. He didn't want to deal with that tonight. He only wanted to be with John but allowing an exam would bring all the pain in between them. John would have questions, John would want to talk, and Sherlock just couldn't do that…..not yet, maybe not ever.

When Sherlock turned his back, John sighed considering what he could do to help Sherlock even a little if an exam wasn't going to be allowed. He decided to focus on the domestics for the time being and disappeared into the bedroom. Sherlock still seemed lost in thought when he returned so John cleared his throat quietly to get his attention before speaking. "Uhm….the bed is freshly made and turned down for you. There are fresh towels and all your favorite items are still in the bathroom, including your razor. I put clean clothes and a dressing gown in the bathroom for you." John paused when Sherlock finally turned to face him, his eyes questioning John trying to understand what he wanted….what was the goal. John could only sigh at the mistrust in his motives but he pressed on just the same. "There is plenty of food left from dinner. If you...if you wanted to get a hot bath then I could warm you up something to eat while you do that and have it ready when you get out. If you like that is?" Sherlock glanced with longing towards the bathroom, then darted his gaze back to John. "I promise I won't come in unless you call me Sherlock. I won't pry if you're not ready. I would hope that you know you can come to me if it is something serious but I even put the med-kit in the bathroom so you can tend to yourself if you won't allow me to help you. I just….I want to be able to do something to make you feel at home again, because this is still your home."

Sherlock finally seemed to relax a bit and a small smile tugged at one side of his mouth. "Alright."

John smiled in return, "Alright. And make some noise while you're at it…...just so I know you haven't passed out or anything. Recite a poem, talk, sing a song." That earned him a severely raised eyebrow from Sherlock so John merely chuckled, "Well...do Something." Sherlock smirked as he moved towards the bathroom before John called out, "Uhm….wine or tea with your dinner?"

Sherlock actually allowed himself a real smile, "Tea John, definitely tea." He knew John would make it better…..it was just going to take time.

{*} {*} {*}

The shower had been a welcome treat, Sherlock running out all of the hot water scrubbing dirt and dried blood from his body, inspecting the fresher wounds for any signs of infection and making sure there was no fresh bleeding to tip-off John. He had managed to keep up a steady litany of English poetry interspersed with bawdy limericks he had picked up in his time underground, enough to keep John fully cognizant of his consciousness until he was out of the shower. He utilized the med-kit in the bathroom, nothing required stitches, nothing was feverish and he dressed anything likely to bleed before he pulled on his cotton shirt and pajama pants. He found clippers in the medicine cabinet and made quick work of tidying up his unruly nails. He lamented his overlong hair but it could wait. Maybe when he had settled himself a bit more he could get John to trim it for him. He knew he wouldn't be able to go out to have it done for a while and the length really didn't suit him. Still he felt far more human than he had for the past sixteen months once he left the bathroom. The smell of the warmed over beef and fresh tea set his stomach to growling as soon as he got a whiff. He followed his nose to the kitchen and found John just putting everything on a tray.

"Smells wonderful John."

John chuckled softly. "Well it's not my cooking tonight but it is delicious and will fill up the holes." He finished what he was doing and turned to grab the bread only to come up short when Sherlock pressed into his personal space. He froze. He made no provocative movements. He let Sherlock lead. He met those sharp grey-blue eyes, boring intimately down on him as they had so many times before. John swallowed convulsively. There it was: the unspoken 'thing' that had always been present between Sherlock and he. The simmering tension he never had the opportunity to act on and now he couldn't…..shouldn't…..couldn't! He mentally chastised himself and stepped back putting some distance between the two of them.

Sherlock saw the thoughts flitting across John's face and fought his smirk at John's internal struggle over his closeness. Just as he thought he could press his advantage, John's smile tightened around the edges and he backed away from him. Before Sherlock had a chance to act John had snagged the bread and the tray and was already moving into the sitting room. Sherlock attempted to discipline the sullen expression he was sure he wore as he followed John. He was relieved when John sat on the sofa as he still viewed his chair rather dubiously. As he sat, John handed him his tea which he instantly sipped, gratefully leaning back with the largest sigh John had probably ever heard. "Oh goodness, I have missed your tea John. You simply have no idea." John sipped his own cup and made no comment still lost in his own thoughts it seemed. Sherlock rested his cup and hands in his lap until John finally looked at him. "I missed you John. More than I have ever missed anything in my life, I missed you. I missed this, just the ins and outs of our everyday life. I...I missed us John."

John fought the surge of anger he felt at those words. He didn't want any negativity tonight. His fingers tightened on his cup before he managed the most politic answer he could come up with, "Well, you didn't have to…..miss me, you know. You could have made different choices." When Sherlock opened his mouth to argue, John stopped him with a hand on his thigh. A hand he quickly withdrew. "I don't want to talk about it tonight Sherlock. I don't want to argue or be upset. I just want to sit here, have some tea and a meal with you and know that for now you are alright and here with me. Okay?"

Sherlock stared at John for just a moment, then nodded and resumed sipping his tea. Things felt uncomfortable again and Sherlock wasn't sure why, but he concentrated on giving John what he asked for, John had joined him with his own bowl, probably because he knew Sherlock would eat better with him than alone. Sherlock supposed the strategy worked. The tea warmed him and whetted his appetite causing him to surprise John when he finished his bowl and a slice of bread with butter. When John offered another cup of tea he nodded so eagerly that John chuckled as he put the kettle on and Sherlock counted that a success because John's laughter was one of the joys in his life. One more thing he had missed while he was away. His pleasant stupor lasted until John returned with his tea and none for himself.

"Well it has been nice, just being here like this. But it is really getting late Sherlock, if the tea will do you I am going to head home now. Mycroft will be waiting."

Sherlock panicked but managed to ask calmly, "Well since it is so late, why don't you just stay here? I'm sure Mycroft won't care. And besides...what if I need you?"

John shook his head because he was sure he would not be able to explain the important and sentimental nature of anniversaries to Sherlock. "No Sherlock. I have to get home now and I think you will be just fine until tomorrow. I'm sure we will be back to see about resurrecting Sherlock Holmes from the dead."

Sherlock lashed out before he could stop himself. "But this is your home, here with me! This is where you belong! You know you do! You have to stay!"

John was taken aback by the outburst. His heart broke in a way he never expected it could when he answered Sherlock. "No Sherlock. It's not anymore….not like that….not since you went away. I am sorry Sherlock. I will see you tomorrow but…..I have to leave now. Good-night." He couldn't stay any longer. He couldn't look at Sherlock's face and the myriad of emotions racing across it. Emotions he had never carried so near the surface were far too visible to John right now. He felt the waves crashing against the dam and knew he couldn't stay to deal with Sherlock's distress as well as his own. So he said his good-bye, grabbed his jacket and was down the stairs and out the door onto the street before Sherlock had a chance to answer. He headed towards home knowing he could summon a car in no time but choosing to walk instead. He needed to think about everything away from both of the Holmes men in his life and the fresh air, he hoped, would help clear his head.

It took him forty-five minutes to make the walk to the townhouse. He didn't think he was any closer to answers for dealing with the unique situation he now found himself in but he did realize one thing. As he entered the townhouse and shut the door behind him, he actually breathed a sigh of relief and felt much of his tension ebb. But it was not just the home, he knew, it was Mycroft. Mycroft had been an oasis of strength and calm in his life from the moment they first got together. Mycroft meant stability and security where Sherlock only seemed to bring chaos and heartache. John knew without a doubt that he still loved Sherlock, tonight only proved that. But he also loved Mycroft. He had managed to pick up the shattered pieces of his life and build a new one with Mycroft, and they were happy. They were engaged and would be married. He would not allow Sherlock's reappearance to jeopardize what they had built together. John shed his jacket and headed upstairs, eager to return to his lover and their bed. He needed Mycroft.

The bedroom was dark when John entered but his eyes adjusted quickly. The bed was still made and empty but he soon located Mycroft. He was sitting in one of the leather wingback chairs near the window. He often liked to sit and read there but the moonlight through the window fell on a sleeping man, head fallen against one of the sides and fingers loosely wrapped around an empty tumbler in his lap. John smiled and shook his head, enjoying the simplicity of an everyday moment like this. He toed his shoes off by the door and padded quietly over. He knelt in front of Mycroft and carefully eased the glass from his hands, sitting it on the side table for safe-keeping. He let his fingers stroke softly along the relax jaw as he called quietly, "My?"

It took a couple of tries before Mycroft stirred, blinking slowly awake only to appear somewhat surprised to see John there. "My? You should have gone to bed love. A crick in your neck will not make you a pleasant man to deal with at the office."

Mycroft straightened, stretching his neck at the same time while he tried to decide how to answer John. He couldn't admit that a part of him was afraid John would not come home to him tonight; he couldn't say he feared that if he went to bed alone tonight, he would wake up alone, possibly from now on. It wasn't fair to John to let his fears and insecurities dictate his actions. He finally settled on the somewhat lame but true reply, "I wanted to wait for you. I prefer going to bed together, especially tonight….our anniversary after all." He smiled easily at John.

John returned the smile but could see behind the mask to the real answer. He was not upset by the doubts. Given Mycroft's own chronic insecurities regarding his inexperience with relationships before John, and what he knew about John's feelings for Sherlock, he had a genuine foundation for his worries. It was up to John to allay those fears. "Oh, My. I'm here now, come to bed." Taking Mycroft's hand, he tugged gently until he was on his feet and following him to the side of the bed. John quickly stripped where they stood, then reached to rid Mycroft of his pajamas. Long fingers curled over his hands to stop him.

"How is.." Mycroft began but was quickly cut off by the firm voice of Captain Watson.

"NO! Not here Mycroft. Not here, not now. Now, there is only you and I…..and I want to keep it that way." Mycroft nodded quietly and released his hold on John's hands allowing himself to be divested of his pajamas and pants. John pressed himself close to Mycroft, curling his arms up and over his shoulders as he tilted his face up to receive a welcome kiss. There was no rush, no play, only two men showing their love for each other. A slow burn building as each took time to arouse and please their partner in all the intimate ways only they knew. Soon John had Mycroft sitting against the headboard of their bed, his head thrown back as John worked his cock and balls with mouth and tongue. He was only mildly surprised when he felt a lubed finger press into him, soon followed by a second. He merely assumed John wanted to take him as well for their anniversary. John worked him carefully but did not avoid his prostate, quickly having Mycroft on edge and thrusting into his mouth. Suddenly it all stopped. Mycroft opened his eyes to see John straddled over his lap, one hand behind him as he eased the plug from his ass. Mycroft quickly grabbed John's hand to stop him.

"John! You shouldn't…..you don't have to…...I.." he trailed off. He was slightly embarrassed to admit his concern but finally spit it out. John was looking at him expectantly, hand still in place. "You've already been used rather roughly tonight. You don't need to do this as well."

John smiled, leaning forward to kiss him quiet. Mycroft's hand fell away from it's hold only to cup John's face instead as he deepened the kiss. Realizing he had been manipulated when he felt John lowering slowly onto his hard cock, he broke the kiss and met John's amused eyes.

"You see My, I do need to do this….I need you inside me just now, part of me. The way we've been….the way we will continue to be." Mycroft had no reply to that. He could only watch as John rose and fell on his cock once more. John took his time, riding him slowly, the sensations intensified by the pace, both men losing themselves for a time. Mycroft allowed his hands and lips to roam over John's body wherever they could reach, pinching and suckling nipples, stroking slowly over his cock, smoothing over the straining back and gripping the powerful thighs. John was moaning and humming softly, his eyes closed in pleasure, in response to Mycroft's ministrations. His eyes suddenly flew open and he paused, leaning forward to whisper low and filthy in Mycroft's ear causing the large man to shudder. "Besides My, I never did get my ride."

Mycroft let out a low moan as John leaned back further, bracing his hands atop the thighs beneath him and with a cheeky wink to his lover began riding his cock in earnest. Rising as far as he could before plunging back down, his own cock flopping up and down against his belly with his movements. It was a show just for him and Mycroft could not get over how stunning John looked spread out before him taking his pleasure. Soon the pace increased, both John and Mycroft moaning loudly as they neared their limit. Mycroft began to stroke John firmly determined that he would come first, while John groaned and bit his lip, shaking his head as he tried to hold off, but to no avail. John quickly reached his peak crying out as he began to come over Mycroft's hand and abdomen. Mycroft, well used to the cues of John's body, pulled him forward, holding him firmly against him as he thrust up into him hard and fast reaching his own climax in only a few strokes as well. They clung to each other then, chest to chest, arms wrapped around each other, John's head resting on Mycroft's shoulder as they caught their breath.

It was John who led the way again, leading Mycroft to the shower to clean up and then back to bed where they quickly fell asleep wrapped in each others arms. The world outside and all its commensurate woes pushed aside as the two lovers took comfort in each other.

**AUTHOR'S Note: **First I must apologize for taking so long to get this update posted! I let myself get distracted with some other things and, before I knew it, it was much longer than I liked since I updated. I will resume alternating back and forth between my stories to try and prevent that from happening again! That being said, I did use the time to think through what our three men were going through and I think the chapter is fantastic! I am only a little bit biased of course! ;) LOLOL

Tremendous Thanks to Spades (hereafter known as The Red Pen) for her invaluable assistance and unflinching attention to details. She manages to make everything I write better! If you haven't read her stuff, you need to get a Move On! :-D

As always, I don't own squat. But I have a wonderful time on the playground! Please feed the review/comment addicted writer! It IS allowed in THIS zoo! I Promise! HAHAHAHA! Enjoy guys! And Always my sincere thanks for reading! Cynthia


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